


i'll take responsibility (for the future)

by yamadad



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Catharsis, Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Spanking, Team as Family, recreational drug use in one chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 56,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23236591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamadad/pseuds/yamadad
Summary: daichi is called dad by his teammates. he used to push it aside as a joke but now part of him thinks he should actually take on a dad role. and part of that role is punishing his teammates when they misbehave.or the boys of haikyuu misbehave sometimes and they have to deal with the repercussions
Comments: 317
Kudos: 330





	1. kageyama.

**Author's Note:**

> title from stray kid's gone days, thought it was rather fitting for this series haha. 
> 
> this takes place during season 4, so slight spoilers ahead if you haven't watched yet!

Daichi knew that Tobio was a brat, he knew it from the day he met the first year and he was about to fight Shoyou. Although the boy had gotten better about his fighting with Shoyou—barely, but Daichi saw a definite improvement from the first time the two had entered the volleyball club—his attitude was still an issue.

He was rather enthusiastic to hear that one of his teammates, a first-year at that, was accepted into the all-star Japan volleyball. All the other members of Karasuno were ecstatic—Shoyou less so, he was rather disappointed at the fact that he, himself, was not invited. That being said, Daichi was proud, he had never expected someone from his team to be accepted, let alone a first year. Not to mention, Tsukishima had been accepted to the first year training camp. Both boys were rather thrilled at the chance to show off and practice with their rivals, and peers, and Daichi promised that while they were gone they would not miss anything—just normal practices.

And so, the two first years left—well, three, Daichi supposed. Hinata decided that he wanted to break into the first year training camp and it took Daichi, Coach Ukai and Takeda-Sensei's lectures to really have any effect on his actions. Daichi ensured the redhead that when he returned, he'd be greeted with diving drills and a lecture from Sugawara; that was enough of a punishment in Daichi's opinion. The main problem was when Tsukishima and Kageyama returned from their camps. Namely, Kageyama.

All the Karasuno members knew about Tobio's attitude. While Tsukishima seemed to have just as bad as an attitude, he at least managed to remain the slightest bit respectful to everyone, especially his senpais. Daichi was rather glad the boys were polite, the worst thing was having teammates with no respect—that choose to disrespect their senpais. But Kageyama had done just that. 

It started off with just him griping and complaining, towards Hinata mainly, which Daichi had pretty much expected. It wasn't until he turned towards Asahi that he began to intervene.

"Yah, Tobio," Daichi growled, "he is your senpai, show some respect!"

Kageyama rolled his eyes, "I was just telling him he messed up, nothing disrespectful about it."

Sugawara piped up, arms crossed, "You were rather rude about it, though." He shook his head, looking over at his fellow third year, the ace looking close to tears, "You could've been polite."

"Kageyama is never polite," Hinata snorted from behind Sugawara, instantly shrinking down under his and Daichi's gaze. "Sorry.." He whispered, quick to move away from the captain and vice-captain before he too found himself in trouble. 

"Asahi's being dramatic." 

Daichi shot up at that, "What?"

"He just got his feelings hurt because he messed up and had a first-year correct him." 

"Tobio, what the hell is your problem?"

Daichi jumped, shocked to hear Sugawara that angry, swearing at the boy. He was just as mad, he just did an easier job of managing it. 

"Nothing is my problem, Suga!" Kageyama growled, moving closer, "Stop mothering me!"

Daichi stood between Sugawara and Kageyama, holding his hand up in a placating manner to calm Sugawara before he decided to murder Kageyama. 

"Suga, go cool off for a bit," Daichi soothed him, "let me deal with Tobio."

Sugawara grumbled, walking away—not before sending Kageyama a killer look, if Tobio wasn't so angry he would have been scared shitless.

Daichi sighed, looking over at the first year; he could see the heat coming off of him and he wouldn't be surprised if smoke began pouring from his ears. He didn't know what to do. 

He quickly thought about his dad and what he would have done in a situation like this. Naturally, Daichi already knew the answer. He was a good kid, he rarely got into trouble and he never even thought of giving his father back-talk, but he wasn't a saint. He remembers coming home from a party during his second-year, stumbling in and obviously drunk. His dad didn't take to his underage son coming back from a party, he wasn't allowed to go to, extremely drunk too well. He doesn't remember much else from that night, but he has the morning after permanently sketched in his brain. His dad didn't even take a second thought in deciding to turn Daichi over his knee and beating his bare ass until it was bright red, the second-year squirming and sobbing over his father's knee. Although he had never gotten into great trouble after that day, he always thinks back to it as a reminder whenever he feels like drinking. Daichi then realizes what he needs to do. Although Tobio didn't drink underage or sneak out to a party, he did decide to be completely disrespectful to his senpais, his teammates, and yelled at Sugawara. The captain bites his lip, was he really going to spank Kageyama? He wasn't his dad, despite the taunting nickname his teammates gave him, and he didn't expect Tobio to accept such punishment either, but his actions were far too severe to go unpunished and it took a lot more than just lecturing Kageyama for the stubborn first-year to realize he was in the wrong. Daichi sighed, looking up at a—still fuming—Tobio. Daichi sighed, he needed to do it. 

"Kageyama," Daichi called, Tobio turning towards the captain with a scowl, "come with me."

Kageyama laughed, "I'm not-"

"Now!"

The other members of Karasuno turned towards Daichi and Kageyama, the captain holding Tobio's neck in a death grip as he guided the two of them out of the gym and into the changing room. 

"Where are Kageyama and Daichi going?" Hinata asked, head tilting in curiosity as Nishinoya bounced the ball behind him.

Sugawara smirked, he knew exactly what Daichi was planning.

"Let go of me Daichi!" Kageyama growled, trying to twist out of Daichi's grip, the captain just tightening his hold and shutting the door to the changing room behind them, letting it lock. It was then that he decided to let go of Tobio's neck, the first-year glaring.

"Alright, what's going on?" Daichi cut to the chase, staring the grumpy setter down, "Why are you acting even brattier than usual?"

Kageyama set his jaw, eyes narrowing.

"Kageyama?"

No response.

Daichi figured as much.

He moved to grab Tobio's wrist, pulling the boy beside him as he sat on the bench. 

"Your behavior today is completely inexcusable, Tobio." Daichi began, Kageyama no longer glaring but looking rather confused, "I normally let you get away with your attitude through a lecture but obviously, that hasn't been working."

He pauses, moving to turn Kageyama over his knee, "And so-"

"W-Wait!" Kageyama panics, arms flailing as Daichi rests his hand on his back to keep him in place over his knee, "Y-You don't have to do this!" Kageyama is begging, trying to twist away from Daichi.

The captain tuts, moving his leg to trap Kageyama's before he reaches up and tugs the boy's shorts down; Tobio yelling out in embarrassment.

"D-Daichi!" He panics, "N-No! No!"

"You've been warned and lectured about this attitude of yours far too much and far too long, I'm tired of seeing you be continuously disrespectful."

With that he slaps his hand down on Kageyama's butt, his thin boxers providing a small amount of protection against Daichi's stinging slap.

Of course, Daichi would have a hard hit, he was their spiker after all. Two more hits fell, Kageyama already squirming. He was already struggling after just three spanks.

"Especially when you're disrespectful towards your senpais," Daichi lectured, continuing a harsh pattern against Kageyama's ass, before letting his hand move to spank against the tops of his thighs.

"O-Ow!" Kageyama whined, reaching to rub at his bottom when Daichi smacked his hand away, "D-Daichi, stop!"

Daichi chuckled, "I don't think so," he tutted, not stopping his smacks, "you've been having this coming for a while now and it's about time I take care of this attitude problem _once and for all_!"

He gave four harsh slaps at the last four words, Kageyama whining softly. 

Daichi continued spanking, not pausing or slowing down his smacks—much to Kageyama's digression.

"You yelled at Asahi," Daichi smacked harshly at that, "You yelled at Sugawara," another harsh smack. 

"You yelled at me," the hardest smack against his thigh. 

Kageyama yelped louder, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 

"S-Sorry!"

Daichi hummed, "I'm sure you're sorry, you're having your ass beaten by your captain for being a little brat, hmm?"

Kageyama whined at that, head falling into his arms as he cried out softly. 

Daichi stopped momentarily, Kageyama was hopeful that it was over. Until the captain reached up and yanked his boxers down, cool air from the changing room instantly tickling at his bare bottom.

"No! No!" Kageyama cried, yelling as Daichi continued spanking against his bare ass now, "Not bare! I'm s-sorry! S-So sorry!"

Daichi nods, letting his hand fall harder and faster—Kageyama's feet kicking pathetically as he sobs loudly over the captain's lap.

"I'm disappointed in you Tobio," Daichi's voice is stern, "I expected far better from you."

Kageyama is blubbering out apologies at this point, "D-Daichi! S-Sorry!"

Daichi sighs, Kageyama's ass is bright red and he's a complete mess—blubbering apologies and stuttering to talk. Daichi knows he's learned his lesson.

"Ten more," Daichi states, moving his hand against the top of his thighs, "then we're done."

Kageyama whimpers, but Daichi is responded to hear a small response, "Okay Captain.."

And then Daichi's hand falls—one, two, five, times, Kageyama whining out with each hit. 

"Last two," Daichi announces landing the last two hits hardest on his thighs, Kageyama yelping loudly at that before deflating over Daichi's lap and sobbing harshly. 

Daichi lets his hand rest against the small of Tobio's back, rubbing gently as the boy sobs over his knee. His ass is bright red, but Daichi knows it won't bruise—it'll just hurt for him to sit for a while. 

When Kageyama's crying dies down, Daichi lifts him up to sit on his lap. Kageyama's face is bright red, obviously embarrassed, but he doesn't say anything—simply curling up into Daichi and hugging onto him for dear life, sniffling into his ear. 

"'m sorry," Kageyama whispers, "was brat."

Daichi smiles softly, rubbing his back again, "You were. But we took care of it, you have a clean slate now, okay? I'm not mad at you, I never was."

Kageyama nods into Daichi's shirt, the captain smiling. It's nice to see Tobio like this, all tired and calm—he's so small like this.

"We need to head back, okay?" Kageyama stiffens at that, obviously not ready to head back into the gym and face his teammates—namely Sugawara.

"You need to apologize when we get back in, to Asahi and Sugawara. Apologize to the entire team as well, alright?"

Kageyama nods, lifting himself off Daichi's lap and pulling his boxers and shorts back up, hissing as they rub against his raw ass. 

"You hit so hard, Daichi!" Kageyama whines, pouting at the captain.

Daichi laughs, "What were you expecting?"

"Not to use your full strength on me..." Kageyama mumbles, Daichi laughing louder and taking him under his shoulder, rubbing his hair.

"I'll have Sugawara deal with you next time then."

Kageyama's eyes widen, his head shaking violently, "N-No!"

"Suga that scary, huh?"

Kageyama cannot seem to get the image of Sugawara's glare out of his head, he's used to his senpai being so nice and smiling, the thought of him glaring sends a shiver down his spine. 

"I've never seen him so angry," Kageyama admits quietly, Daichi laughing and sending a vibration through Kageyama's body as the captain keeps his hold on him.

"He's over it now," Daichi smiles, "now stop stalling and let's head back in so you can apologize and we can get back to practice."

"Asahi-senpai!" Kageyama yelps, bowing a full 90-degrees in front of the third-year, "I-I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier and I hope you can forgive me. You're a great player and I should not have yelled at you or insulted you as I did."

Asahi smiles, "Ah, no worries Kageyama." He ruffles the first-year's hair, "Thank you, for apologizing."

Kageyama nods before moving towards Sugawara, repeating the same bow. 

Sugawara stares at him, mouth open in surprise.

"Sugawara-senpai! Please forgive me for yelling at you earlier, I apologize for my rude behavior and I was out of line."

Suga smiles, "Of course, Tobio."

Kageyama smiles, "I-I really am sorry."

Sugawara sets his hands up, "No worries, I already know you feel bad enough after Daichi dealt with you."

Kageyama feels his face heat up, "D-Did he tell you? Did you hear!?"

"Oh, no." He grins, thinking, "I just always expected Daichi to do something like that. He is the dad after all."

Kageyama laughs at that, Suga joining in with him.

"Hey! Don't call me dad!"

"What? You gonna take me into the changing room next?"

Daichi turns bright red and shakes his head as he walks away—most likely to tell Hinata and Nishinoya off for clowning around during their break. 

"Oh, and Kageyama," Sugawara calls, the first-year turning back towards the setter, "if something like this happens again I'll be sure to be the one to turn you over my knee."

Despite his smile Kageyama gulps, face turning red, he quickly looks down at his shoes, holding his breath.

Sugawara laughs, "Just stay out of trouble, alright?" Kageyama nods slowly. "Now, I believe you have a team to apologize to and practice to finish?"

Tobio sighs in relief, everything would be okay.


	2. nishinoya.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nishinoya cannot seem to take a break, even when he's hurt. daichi is quick to put the libero into place.

Nishinoya was a lot of things. He was the libero for Karasuno volleyball for starters, he was loud, and he was short—but full of so much energy and rage it made up for it. However, he was not, by any means, a quitter.

Nishinoya practiced until his legs were numb, feeling as though they would fall off and that would never seem to stop him. Tanaka had long given up on trying to stop his friend from practicing, more often than not he'd decide to leave him alone and head home for himself, far too tired to stop the libero from resting as well. Daichi had lectured the boy about it several times as well, constantly returning to the gym after an hour to see the libero practicing long after everyone had returned home. Needless to say, Nishinoya had received quite a lecture after that and it was enough to deter him from staying late for a while. But of course, he still couldn't help himself. 

Shoyou often stayed late to practice with him, Kageyama as well, but even after they had left Nishinoya had still found himself wanting to practice, wanting to improve.

Daichi had cornered the second year after practice one day, arms crossed and voice very concerned.

"Noya," he began, reaching out to grab his shoulder, "you need to take a break. If you keep practicing like this you're bound to burn yourself out. We've talked about this before, have we not?"

Nishinoya shrugged it off, flashing a smile and a thumbs up to his captain.

"I'm fine!" He smoothed his hair back, his spike popping back into place, "There's no need to worry about me, I promise."

Daichi sighs, "Just promise me you won't hurt yourself, okay?"

And Noya did promise him, smiling as big as he could before running off and setting himself up at the net to practice once more—practice having just ended.

Normally Hinata and Kageyama would stay, but the two had gotten yelled at by Daichi for their upcoming tests so they weren't allowed to stay and practice late. The two complained loudly, Hinata begging the captain to let them stay for an extra ten minutes, only stopping when Daichi death gripped their necks and guided them out of the gym.

So Noya was alone, but that was fine. He didn't mind practicing alone.   
  
  


Nishinoya hated practicing alone. He had been at it for nearly twenty minutes and was getting nowhere. He grumbled, tossing the ball at the wall and moving to do his signature "rolling thunder", only to roll onto his ankle and over it, instant pain coursing through his body, the ball was long forgotten on the court.

Noya held his breath, ankle throbbing under him. He could barely move it without pain, his eyes already beginning to water. He was pretty sure he sprained it, which was evident by the rapid swelling and immense pain. He tried to stand, quickly falling back down due to the pain.

"Fuck.." He muttered, he threw his arms over his head, trying to stop himself from crying. Noya had been injured plenty of times, he wasn't going to let this little sprained ankle get to him. Especially not when he had practice all day tomorrow.

"Noya," the libero turned his head, Asahi peeking in the doorway, "you're still here?"

"Ah, yeah," he smiled through his pain, slowly lifting himself up and wincing slightly, "wanted to do a few more tosses to myself."

Asahi nods, "You okay?"

"Yeah! Foot fell asleep 's all, was laying down too long." He bites his lip, ignoring his throbbing ankle, "Why're you here?"

Asahi blushes, "Ah," he scratches his neck, "made it all the way home before realizing I left my bag."

Noya looks over to the benches, the ace's bag sitting there. He laughs, Asahi constantly forgot his bag.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Asahi questions, he keeps glancing at Noya's ankle, the swelling becoming increasingly obvious.

Noya nods, "I'm okay, honest." He puts more weight onto his ankle, hiding the fact that it feels like pure hell, "Don't worry about me."

Asahi looks at him once more before shaking his head, "Maybe forgetting my bag was a sign to come get you."

Nishinoya laughs, "I guess I should go home, mom's probably made dinner and I am getting hungry."

"Come on libero," Asahi calls, slinging his bag over his shoulder, "let's get home. We have a long day tomorrow."  
  
  


Noya wakes up and feels like pure shit. His ankle is still swollen and beginning to turn purple. Not to mention, it hurts—a lot. He just had to make it through practice today, he'd be fine. If anything, he could just claim his bad playing on a bad night's sleep.

Noya pulls himself out of bed, wincing as he steps onto his floor, and quickly changes for practice, grabbing his bag and walking downstairs. He's in pain, it's a lot of pain. But he'll be fine. He has to be.  
  
  


Asahi had been concerned the entire walk home, constantly checking on the younger boy as he limped slightly, but Noya kept assuring him he was okay. Asahi still had his doubts.

He ends up pulling Daichi aside before practice starts, the rest of the team still warming up.

"Daichi, I need to talk to you," the captain nods, prompting Asahi to continue, "I came back to the gym yesterday after practice. I had forgotten my bag and wanted to grab it before tomorrow, but Noya was still here. I guess he must have hurt himself because his ankle looks pretty bad and he's been limping but he kept trying to reassure me he was okay."

Daichi sighs, running his hand down his face. Noya would be the one to sprain his ankle and continue to practice as though nothing was wrong.

"I'll talk to him, try to get him to sit out today," Asahi nods, smiling gently, "thanks for letting me know, and for checking up on him."

Daichi leaves the ace to continue warming up, gesturing for Suga to come towards him. The vice-captain makes his way over, looking confused.

"What's going on?"

Daichi sighs, explaining to Suga the conversation he had just had with Asahi. By the time he's finished Suga's sighing as well, running his hand through his hair.

"He's not going to sit out, y'know," Suga informs the captain, glancing over at the libero who continues to warm up as if nothing is wrong.

Daichi nods in agreement, "What do we do?"

Sugawara sighs, shrugging his shoulders, "I guess we tell him to sit out. I don't want him hurting himself any more than he already as."

The two nod, moving back to the rest of the team. Coach Ukai walks in shortly after, calling everyone's attention.

"Alright, I know we said today would just be a normal practice but I have some news." He pulls out a notebook, "We're going to do some 3-on-3 games for a bit, just to get you guys into a different situation. I have the list of teams here when I call your team get together and start getting ready to play."

Yamaguchi, Ennoshita, and Tanaka are Team A. Tsukishima, Asahi, and Tobio Team B. Narita, Kinoshita, and Sugawara are on Team C. Leaving Daichi with Shoyou and Nishinoya. Perfect, that meant that the captain was able to keep an eye out for him easier.

"Alright, I want D and A team to go first. B and C, you guys can chill out for now."

Noya stood up, moving to go play when Daichi calls him.

"I don't want you participating today."

Nishinoya whips his head towards the captain, eyes wide, "What!? Why?"

"You sprained your ankle, there's no way you're going to practice on that."

Noya huffs, "I'm fine, honest. Did Asahi tell you? He worries too much, I promise I'm okay."

"I can see how swollen it is, Yu." Daichi says sternly, "You're not practicing and that's final."

Noya glares but obeys, moving towards the bench and sitting down with a pout.

Daichi quickly explains the situation to Coach Ukai, the coach instantly understanding and allowing Nishinoya to sit out during today's practice.

"Since Yu is unable to participate today, I'm going to need someone to play twice."

It's quickly decided that Sugawara will play twice, the third year adamant on getting in as much as practice as he can. He glances towards Nishinoya, the libero staring earnestly and vibrating on the bench.

Ukai claps his hands, "Alright, let's get this started with."  
  
  


Noya hates not being able to practice, especially during practice matches. Being at practice and not able to play sucked, like really bad. He knew that Daichi and Asahi were just looking out for him, but he was fine. His ankle may be swollen but it didn't hurt. Besides, he wanted to practice. He needed to.

He wasn't sure how mad Daichi would be if he practiced on his own for a bit, just a little practice wouldn't kill anyone. Besides, no one was paying attention to him anyway.   
He glanced over and saw Daichi and Suga in the middle of playing, the two obviously distracted, and stood up to move away and practice a bit on his own.   
  
"Noya," Tanaka called, "where are you going?"  
  
"Don't worry, just focus on your practice game Ryu!"  
  
Tanaka shrugged, turning back to the game going on, soon forgetting about his friend.

Noya moved away from the commotion and towards the wall on the opposite side of the gym. He reached for a ball, moving to toss it against the wall. It bounced off, Noya quickly receiving it, wincing in pain at the pressure on his ankle. He did it once more, then again, quickly getting a nice rhythm going between him and the wall. He smirked, adding more energy into the next toss-

"Nishinoya Yu!" The libero whipped his head around, the ball bouncing onto the ground beside him, as Daichi stormed over. 

"What in the world do you think you're doing!?" The captain yelled, eyes glaring and voice seriously deep.

"Uh, well I didn't wanna just sit around so I-"

"Thought you would sneak away while everyone was busy to practice? Even after I told you not to, even with your sprained ankle?"

Noya gulped, he had never seen Daichi so angry before. 

"I tried being nice, I didn't want to lecture you when I knew you were in pain but obviously the severity of this isn't getting to you." He grabbed Noya's wrist, tugging him towards the door.

"Keep playing, we'll be back."

Noya looked over at everyone helplessly, silently screaming for help as his pissed captain dragged him outside and towards the changing room. 

He sits Nishinoya down onto the bench, standing in front of him with his arms crossed.

"What were you thinking?" Daichi begins lecturing, "You thought you could just disobey me and go off and put more pressure onto your ankle? Your ankle that is seriously swollen? It needs time to heal, Noya, and if you keep practicing on it it never will. Do you want to play the rest of the season?"

Noya nods, eyes not meeting Daichi's, "Then you can't do something stupid like this!"

It's silent for a minute, Noya shaking slightly. He had never been lectured by Daichi and he honestly was glad, the captain could be scary if prompted. 

"Stand up," Daichi instructed, moving to sit on the bench where Noya previously was. He quickly turned the boy to his side, tugging his shorts and boxers down—ignoring the second year's gasp and complaints—and pulled him over his knee.

"Obviously talking hasn't been working," Daichi began, "so we're going to take a different approach to get some common sense into that thick skull of yours." 

And with that his hand smacked down sharply, Noya gasping out and kicking softly in response. Daichi continued to smack against his bare ass, not slowing or softening the sharp slaps. Noya wriggled around, whining out when Daichi moved to smack against his thigh.

"Hold still," he scolded, not stopping his relentless pattern. 

"H-Hurts!" Noya whined, kicking again, only to receive a smack against his thigh in response, "Ow!"

"It's meant to hurt, Nishinoya," Daichi stated, voice eerily calm in comparison to his harsh smacks, "it wouldn't be a lesson otherwise."

Noya whined, burying his head in his arms as Daichi continued to rain down smack after smack against his bare ass. The pain in his ankle seemed to disappear as the only pain he could focus on turned to the growing warmness on his bottom. 

"D-Daichi! Please!"

Daichi hummed, "Why are you being punished?"

"H-Hurt myself."

SMACK!

"Ow!"

"You're not in trouble for getting hurt, baka!" Daichi scolded, slowing his smacks.

Noya began sniffling, "W-What?"

Daichi groaned, stopping his spanking altogether, "You're being punished for putting yourself into more harm. You're bound to get hurt playing volleyball, you especially as libero, but you're able to allow yourself time to rest. You chose to ignore my warnings, Asahi's warnings, and practiced anyway when your ankle is already swollen and sprained." 

Nishinoya began crying freely at that, Daichi deciding to continue his punishment as he began smacking against his reddened ass again.

"Hurting yourself is one thing, but taking a break is important. Your ankle is sprained, what if you broke it by continuing to practice on it, hmm? What if you're unable to play at nationals because you keep hurting your ankle, making it worse rather than better?"

Noya is sobbing at this point, laying limp over Daichi's knee as the captain continues to rain down harsh smacks.

"You're too good and too talented to end your career like this."

"D-Daichi!" He sobs, clinging onto the captain's knee for dear life, "Please! No more! I'm s-sorry!"

Daichi sighs, he knew that Nishinoya learned his lesson. He was probably in pain too, not just from his ankle either. But he needed to make sure the lesson stuck with him, this wasn't the first time he had gotten onto Noya for over practicing, he was setting a bad example for the first years and putting his health at risk. 

He stopped smacking, guiding Noya off his lap.

"We're almost done, I just need to get something."

Noya rubbed his sore butt, wiping his tears away with his other hand. He didn't like where this was going.

Daichi returned with a wooden ruler in hand, Noya instantly whining and backing away. 

"We've had a conversation about your over practicing before, have we not?" Daichi asked, sitting back down and turning Nishinoya back over his knee.

Noya nods, "Yes Daichi..."

"I hope that this is the last time we talk about this because next time I'll be sure to use your own belt on you."

Nishinoya whines out, "Y-Yes Daichi.."

"Fifteen," Daichi announces placing the ruler over his butt before smacking it down.

Noya yelps out, the ruler was ten times worse than Daichi's bare hand, and that was saying something because the captain had a very hard hit. 

The next fourteen hits came rapidly and harshly, Daichi not allowing Nishinoya a chance to breathe before each smack fell down onto his bare ass. When he finished he tossed the ruler aside, rubbing the sobbing libero's back. 

He let Nishinoya cry out, gently calming down the boy and running his fingers through his hair as he began to sniffle.

"I-I'm sorry..." He whispered when he was calm enough, turning and wincing as he sat up to face Daichi, "I didn't mean to-I didn't want to-"

Daichi cut him off, hugging him, "No apologies, everything is okay now."

Noya nods, rubbing his eyes and Daichi ruffles his hair. 

"Now let's head back in there, you have an ankle to rest and I have a practice match to win."

Nishinoya laughs, sliding off of Daichi's lap and moving to pull his boxers and shorts back up. His ass is throbbing and he knows it'll hurt to sit for a few days but despite this, he can't help but feel far better than he has in days.

But he'll never let Daichi know that. 

Even if the captain carries him back into the gym.

Okay, maybe he will let him know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Thaliaty for the request ^__^ I'll be sure to have your other two posted whenever I get the motivation for them haha.
> 
> please be sure to leave some requests! I'll write any character, any school, any scenario, as long as it is NON-SEXUAL
> 
> thanks for your support, please be sure to leave kudos <3


	3. kenma.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kenma likes video games a lot. a little too much. how will kuroo react when they affect his sleep?

Kenma and Kuroo have been friends since elementary school. Although he was rather shy, Kuroo had taken an instant liking to Kenma and vowed to take the younger boy under his wing—soon becoming his best friend. Nearly 10 years later and the two boys were still inseparable, Kuroo getting onto Kenma's nerves almost like an older brother would. Although no longer shy and able to return Kuroo's teasing with equally sly remarks, Kenma was still rather closed-off. Kuroo never pushed his friend out of his comfort zone. He was already surprised enough when the younger agreed to go to volleyball try-outs for Nekoma and even _more_ surprised to see him attending practices and enjoying them. 

Kenma found an outlet through volleyball and video games. Video games were his main way of coping when things got to be too much when he became overwhelmed. Kuroo was rather used to his childhood friend with his face in front of his PSP screen, even when he needed to study; Kuroo never regarded it as an issue.

Until it affected his sleep.

Being a volleyball player required plenty of practice, stretching, hydration, and, of course, rest. After a long night of practicing Kuroo had insisted his teammates get a good night's rest, the captain stern but loving towards his mates. 

"We have quite a busy day ahead of us tomorrow," Kuroo stated, "so let's make sure we're resting as much as we can, right?"

The team all nodded, Kuroo nodding in approval before dismissing them for the weekend. 

Kuroo and Kenma usually walked home from practice together, considering they lived across the street from each other and their moms were close as well. Kenma huffed out a breath of air, turning to his friend.

"Wanna come over and play video games?"

Kuroo glanced over at Kenma, the shorter boy pursing his lips like a cat.

"It's kinda late, isn't it?" Kuroo questioned, "We have a busy day tomorrow, we should sleep as much as we can."

Kenma rolled his eyes, "I don't need you to become my mother Tetsu," Kenma snickers, "but I guess you're right..."

Kuroo nods, ruffling his hair, "Tomorrow night? We'll be done with practice matches and can stay up late playing."

Kenma laughs, stepping up to his front door, "Sounds good," he waves bye to the captain, "see ya Tetsu."

_tetsu_u: you better go to bed soon_

_tesu_u: i know you're online_

Kenma rolled his eyes, pausing his game to shoot his friend a response.

_nekoni: Stop being a mother_

_nekoni: I'm going to bed after this match_

The reply is almost instant, typical Kuroo.

 _tetsu_u: I'm holding u accountable_ ॓_॔

_tetsu_u: you better be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when i see u up in the morning_

_nekoni: Alright captain_

_nekoni: Night_

Kuroo goes offline after that, most likely to sleep. Kenma checks the time on his clock, it's only 11:40. He'll play until midnight and then go to bed, he quickly decides, picking up his PSP and unpausing his game. Besides, he can survive a practice match on little sleep. 

Kenma wakes up to his phone vibrating excessively, the boy groaning and rolling over to grab it to turn it off. He ended up staying up far later than he planned, not falling asleep until close to 5 AM when he was meant to be at Nekoma around 7 AM. He yawns, feeling for his phone and clicking it on, the time glaring at him angrily: 9:32 AM.

Fuck. _Fuck!_

Kuroo is going to murder him.

Kenma rushes into the gym, slamming the doors open in a panic, all of Nekoma turning to him in concern.

"S-Sorry I'm late!" Kenma is quick to bow a full 90 degrees, "I slept past my alarm, it won't happen again."

Kenma is glad this is only a practice match and his punishment is not being allowed to play for the day, he doesn't know how he'd react if he were suspended from the team or even kicked off permanently. 

After Kenma's apology, everyone quickly relaxes, smiling and moving to finish their practice match. Everyone seems to have forgotten as the practice continues on. Everyone but Kuroo, that is. 

The practice is as quick to end as it started, Nekoma bowing towards their practice team before heading into the changing room to grab their bags. Kenma moves to head with them, Kuroo silently grabbing his shoulder and guiding him towards him.

"Kenma," his voice is deadly serious, Kenma has never been more scared in his life, "we need to talk."

Kuroo opens the door to Kenma's room, pointing to his bed before closing the door behind them. Kenma sits and looks at his hands, too scared to meet Kuroo eyes. He knows his friend is angry, he had expected a lecture from him.

"How late did you stay up playing games?"

Kenma looks up at that, Kuroo's arms crossed across his chest and his eyes narrowed.

Kenma gulps, "Uh," he pauses, "until like.. 5?"

Kuroo sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, "So you went to bed at 5 in the morning, knowing we had an important practice match and came in two hours late? Despite promising me you'd get a decent night's rest?"

Kenma bites his lip, "Sorry..."

"Give me your PSP."

Kenma gawks at that, "W-What!?" 

"You heard me," Kuroo demands, hand thrusting out, "you're becoming too distracted by it and it's affecting school and volleyball."

Kenma grumbles, "It's on my end table..." He finally mumbles out, not wanting to get up and hand it off himself.

Kuroo shakes his head, moving and grabbing the PSP before sliding it into his bag.

"You can get it back whenever I feel as though you're ready."

Kenma rolls his eyes, "Are we done now?"

"I think," Kuroo begins, moving towards the bed, "you need a little reminder on the importance of listening to your senpai, wouldn't you agree?"

Kenma pales, he already knows where this is going.

When Kenma said that Kuroo was like an older brother to him, he really meant it. He remembers once in elementary school when Kenma had wandered away from Kuroo at the park, getting distracted by the birds. Kuroo quickly panicked, dragging the boy back and swatting his backside three times. After that, Kuroo seemed to fall into a disciplinary role for Kenma. He hadn't been spanked since middle school, after failing a test really badly, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to experience that pain again. 

However, Kuroo was his best friend. He was practically a brother and disappointing him hurt more than he'd like to admit. 

"I-I agree..."

Kenma ends up turned over Kuroo's lap soon afterward, his shorts and boxers around his ankles as Kuroo rests his hand against Kenma's bare ass.

"I'm starting." He announces, quick to let the hand fall down. 

Although it isn't as hard as expected, Kenma still gasps. It had been a few years since the last time Kuroo turned him over his knee and he was quickly becoming familiar with the pain and embarrassment it caused. 

Kuroo began smacking harder after that, not pausing or faltering his smacks as he keeps a relentless pace against Kenma's backside—his butt already turning a light pink under the smacks. 

Kenma begins squirming after twenty smacks, Kuroo landing a sharp slap to his thigh.

"Hold still," Kuroo reprimands, "or I'll get the hairbrush."

Kenma whines but stops squirming, simply laying limp over Kuroo's lap as the elder continues to lay down smacks.

"Although," Kuroo muses, "this isn't the first time we've talked about your sleep schedule regarding video games, is it?"

Kenma whines, yelping when Kuroo spanks him harshly.

"Answer me, Kenma."

Kenma nods, "I-It's not..." 

"Hmm," Kuroo sighs, hand falling twice more before he stops his actions, "get up."

Kenma quickly whines, "No! Please don't!" He glances towards his desk, Kuroo grabbing the wooden hairbrush from the drawer and returning to the bed, quick to turn Kenma back over his knee.

He lets the brush fall harshly, not stopping or slowing down, just smacking against Kenma's ass and thighs as the boy sobs openly over them.

"T-Tetsu!" Kenma sobs, hand gripping his comforter, "Please! N-No more!"

Kuroo shakes his head, "Why are you being punished?"

"I-I stayed up late! Was late to practice!"

Kenma yelps as the brush smacks again.

"And?"

"And!?"

Another smack.

"Ow!"

Kuroo sighs, "You stayed up late after promising me you wouldn't. You lied to me. It's not good for your health to stay up that late, especially playing video games."

Kenma starts sobbing again, feet weakly kicking as the brush continues to paddle relentlessly against his bare ass. It's bright red and throbbing at this point and Kenma already knows it's gonna be a literal bitch to sit down. 

"S-Sorry! Tetsu I'm sorry!" 

Kuroo sighs, letting the brush fall ten more times before tossing it aside. He instantly grabs Kenma, pulling him in for a hug, mindful of his throbbing ass. Kenma sobs into his chest, shoulders shaking and breathing shaky and hiccuping occasionally.

When he finally calms down, Kuroo pulls his chin to look at him.

"Are you okay?"

Kenma nods, rubbing his eyes, "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, no more apologies." Kuroo rubs his head, "You've been punished, you're forgiven." 

"I really am-"

Kuroo kisses his forehead, "It's okay."

Kenma nods, stomach growling loudly.

"You hungry, big baby?"

Kenma pouts, "I didn't get to eat yet because someone was being a brute."

Kuroo laughs, "Sorry your highness." He helps Kenma off his lap, helping the younger redress himself, "let's get some food."

Kenma nods, Kuroo leaving the room.

"Ah, Tetsu," Kuroo turns, "T-Thank you..."

Kuroo smiles, "Of course." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks Raiern for the request! hope you enjoyed it ^__^
> 
> leave some more requests please!


	4. hinata.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kageyama and hinata fight a lot. like a lot.  
> what happens when their fighting wakes up their entire team?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to TinyBangtanScrub and park00kie, i hope you both enjoy!

Spring training was an exciting time for all teams. Friends from different schools would reunite to spend the weekend together—in hopes of beating each other in practice matches—and rivalries would be rekindled, motivating each team the closer it got to the Spring Tournament. This year's spring training would be at none other than Nekoma Highschool, in the heart of Tokyo itself. Karasuno was excited to be able to go to the big city, Hinata was excited to see Kenma, and the boys knew that this weekend would be intense. Daichi had already lectured the boys before they loaded onto the bus.

"Now just remember," Daichi began, eyeing Hinata and Kageyama specifically, "I expect you to all be on your best behavior this weekend. We're going to be around other schools, some of which we're close with, and I want to make a good impression for Karasuno as a whole." 

They all nod, Daichi not looking away from the two first years his lecture is mainly geared towards.

"Hinata, Kageyama," he calls, the two turning to their captain, "keep the fighting to a minimum, okay?"

Tsukishima smirks, Yamaguchi burying his head into his shoulder to hide his giggles, as Hinata turns bright red.

"W-We're not going to fight!"

Kageyama shrugs, "We can try."

Daichi just nods, obviously not wanting to go into that conversation any farther, and gestures to the boys to board the bus. 

It's a four-hour ride, the group either deciding to rest during this time or go on their phones, everyone except Kageyama and Hinata, of course.

"Yah, Kageyama," Hinata peers over his seat, "do you think we'll stay in a nice hotel?"

Kageyama rolls his eyes, "I don't know, boke." He doesn't bother turning around, simply choosing to ignore the shorter boy.

After Daichi's conversation, Kageyama knew that the captain meant business. The last time he had seen him so serious was that day he had returned from his training camp when Tobio snapped at Asahi and Sugawara and Daichi dragged him into the practice room for a "talk". Kageyama shudders at the memory, quick to push it aside. He isn't going to let Hinata get him in trouble, not this time. 

"Wah, so mean." Hinata pouts but chooses to sit back in his seat, Kageyama glad that the red-head isn't willing to argue anymore. 

"Already arguing just an hour in?" 

Kageyama turns to Nishinoya, the libero grinning from his seat, face in his palms. 

"We're not arguing!" Kageyama snaps, quick to defend himself before realizing his mistake. "Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to yell.."

Noya laughs, "I'd be more surprised if the two of you _didn't_ argue this weekend, to be honest."

Kageyama opens his mouth to respond, deciding better of it and flopping over in his seat in hopes to get a nap in before they make it to Nekoma.

He wasn't going to argue with Hinata this weekend, not once. 

The bus arrived and all the boys stood up, stretching their legs out as they grabbed their bags and made their way off the bus.

"We have time until we need to meet with everyone," Coach Ukai announces, "go ahead and bring your bags in and change into your practice clothes. We'll leave in twenty minutes, sound good?" 

The boys all nod, moving into the inn and into their room. There's three rooms total, the team having one room to themselves, Coach Ukai and Takeda-Sensei having their own room, and Yachi and Kiyoko in their own room. The members all set their bags down, quickly changing out of their sweats and into shorts and shirts for their practices. 

"I get to see Kenma!" Hinata sing-songs, tossing his hoodie off and sliding his shirt on in place of it, "And Bokuto-san! And Kuroo-san!"

Suga smiles from where he's standing, "They're our competition, Hinata, remember that."

"I know, I know," he picks up his backpack, "I'm just excited to see them."

Kageyama rolls his eyes, letting out an 'oof' when he feels Suga's elbow hit his stomach.

"Behave."

Kageyama pouts but doesn't say anything, just grabbing his bag and leaving the room to board back onto the bus. 

Once all the members are changed and boarded they leave the inn, pulling up to Nekoma and quickly getting off. They're greeted by all of Nekoma, Kuroo smiling widely at the group.

"Welcome to the city," he gestures for them to follow, "surprised you didn't get lost."

Daichi laughs, "It's not our first time here, Kuroo-san."

While the two captains banter with each other, Hinata looks for his Kenma. He spots him, running over and hugging him tightly.

"Kenma!" He calls, "I missed you."

Kenma smiles, nodding in agreement as he walks with Hinata into the gym.

If Kageyama feels a twinge of jealousy at the interaction, he chooses to push it aside. 

The matches go as expected. Hinata talks to Kenma during breaks, completely ignoring Kageyama and the rest of Karasuno. The setter doesn't want to say he's jealous, but he's getting a little annoyed that the red-head is treating this training as a get-together rather than a chance to improve their skills.

"Hinata!" Daichi calls, the shorter boy saying goodbye to Kenma and jogging towards his team.

"We have a practice match going on, don't forget that." Hinata whips his head towards Kageyama, glaring at the setter.

"Yah, we're on a break! I just wanted to say hi!" 

Daichi opens his mouth to intervene, Kageyama cutting him off.

"We're not here to socialize!"

"I haven't seen Kenma in months!"

Daichi clears his throat, glaring at the two, "Stop arguing. 

They both look down meekly, mumbling out apologies.

"Hinata, Kageyama is right," Hinata shoots his head up, "I know you missed Kenma and that he's your friend, but this practice comes first. When this weekend is over, you can hang out all you want but let's get through the weekend first, okay?"

Hinata sighs but nods, "Okay.." 

He turns to Kageyama after, "And you need to stop antagonizing Hinata." Kageyama looks up with a scowl, "Focus on yourself before you try to confront him."

Kageyama grumbles something under his breath, Daichi not sure if he's saying 'okay' or choosing to say something far more profane, but he ignores him and moves back towards the team. 

The two, although tense around each other, stop arguing and Daichi considers it a blessing. 

Until they return to their inn, that is.

They manage to bathe, eat dinner, and get into bed without arguing. The whole team is exhausted and they have an early start tomorrow, Daichi wanting them to sleep as much as they can. 

The team is quick to fall asleep, Daichi drifting off shortly after. He had been exhausted. He had been keeping a close eye on Hinata and Kageyama, the two first years had been hostile with each other all day and he was scared they were going to fight in front of everyone. Although they were still glaring at each other, not talking to each other, and even going as far as to avoid each other, they weren't arguing at least, which was a win in Daichi's eyes.

"I said move over!"

Daichi shoots awake, Kageyama's loud yell startling him awake.

"I'm not even touching you, Bakageyama!"

"You were literally in my space, dumbass!"

"I was not!"

The rest of the team groggily wakes up, glaring at the two first years who continue to argue, oblivious of their, now, wideawake teammates staring at them. 

"Dumbass!"

Suga sighs and stands up, moving towards Kageyama and dragging him up as though he was a kitten, and pulls him outside of the sleeping area. Suga sends the captain a look, Daichi immediately nodding and moving to grab Hinata, pulling him outside and into the bathroom. 

Hinata is tugging against Daichi's hold the entire time, the captain just tightening his grip and walking into a private—lucky for him—bathroom and locking the door behind them.

"Hinata Shoyo," he begins, voice deep and eyes threatening, "do you have any idea what time it is?"

Hinata looks down, too scared to meet Daichi's eyes, "N-No... I'm sorry."

"I warned you and Kageyama not to argue. I told you guys to be on your best behavior this weekend and what do you go and do? Get into a fight in the middle of the practice gym and then, even after being warned, wake up your team with your childish arguments!"

Hinata's eyes start watering at that, Daichi groaning and grabbing Hinata's arm, moving them towards a seat in the corner of the bathroom and sitting on it, pulling Hinata over his knee.

"W-Wait! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please!"

Daichi adjusts Hinata over his lap, moving to pull his sweat pants and boxers down and letting his hand fall against his bare ass. 

Hinata yelps, already sobbing even after one hit. It wasn't that it was painful, I mean it was—Daichi didn't hold back, but it was more from the embarrassment and shame. He felt guilty, he fought Kageyama after he was told off by Daichi and woke up all his teammates because of it.

Daichi continues to spank Hinata's bare ass, smacking relentlessly and not letting up. Hinata kicks, whining when Daichi's hand meets his upper thigh in response.

"Hold still," he reprimands, hand continuing to smack but moving back up towards his ass instead. 

Hinata cries out loudly, laying limp over Daichi's lap as the captain proceeds to spank his ass. His ass is bright red and the mere thought of sitting is enough to bring Hinata to tears. 

"I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry!" Hinata hiccups out, squeezing onto Daichi's thigh for life as the smacks continued to fall on his ass, "P-Please, I'm sorry!" 

Daichi hums, "Why are you being punished?"

Hinata has to control his breathing, too worked up and a complete mess to answer. Daichi notices this and pauses, moving his hand to rub against his back.

"Shh," he soothes, the hand that was once the source of pain soothing the red-head, "I need you to calm down."

Hinata slowly calms down, hiccuping slightly but no longer sobbing. 

Once he's coherent enough, Daichi prompts his question again.

"I-I," he stutters, wiping his nose, "fought with 'yama, woke everyone up.." He sniffles, "Kept talking w-with Ke'ma.."

Daichi feels his heartbreak at that, he would never get mad at something like that. He was pretty close with Kuroo-san himself, despite their rivalry.

"Hey, hey," Daichi soothed, "I'm not mad at you for talking with Kenma, Hinata."

"Y-You're not?" Hinata sniffles, looking up with red eyes.

Daichi shakes his head, "You're friends, it's natural to want to talk and hang out with him. Just remember, there's a time and place for it." 

Hinata nods, Daichi continuing, "You're in trouble for what you said first. Fighting with Kageyama and waking everyone up."

He moves his hand back to Hinata's bottom, the younger boy whining out as the hand continues to smack against his smarting ass.

"You're getting fifteen more," Daichi announces after two smacks, "then you're done."

Hinata nods, gripping onto Daichi's pant leg again as his hand falls sharply on his ass, Hinata yelling out and sobbing with each sharp hit.

Finally, Daichi finishes, immediately pulling the boy up and into his arms. He was glad Hinata was so small, he was able to hold the boy tightly against him and calm him down after his spanking. 

Daichi shushes him, running a hand through his hair as his other hand rubs his back in a soothing circle.

It takes another twenty minutes for Hinata to finally calm down, eyes red and full of sadness when he looks up at Daichi.

"I-I'm sorry..." He whispers, rubbing his eyes.

Daichi smiles, landing a kiss against his forehead, "You're forgiven, Shoyo."

Hinata nods, rubbing his butt with a pout, "I'm going to be so sore tomorrow." He whines out, Daichi laughing.

"It can be a reminder of what happens when you disobey your captain, hmm?"

Hinata groans, "I don't like this reminder..."

"No one does," he guides Hinata off his lap, helping the younger boy back into his boxers and bottoms, "but it'll keep you from fighting with Kageyama for a while, won't it?"

The two leave the bathroom, Hinata nodding with a yawn, "Can we go back to bed now?"

"I think Sugawara is done talking with Kageyama," Daichi quips, gesturing towards him and Kageyama walking towards them, Kageyama's eyes red and grimacing slightly. 

Hinata moves towards Kageyama, "I-I'm sorry, for fighting with you... And getting us into trouble... And talking with Kenma all day..."

Kageyama smiles softly, taking everyone by surprise, "It's my fault too..." He starts, "I initiated it in the gym and when we were in bed..."

Hinata shakes his head, "But I-"

"I think you boys can take equal blame," Suga interrupts, smiling at the two, "now let's get to bed, we have a busy day tomorrow and it's late."

The two boys nod, walking back towards the sleeping room.

"Did Daichi..." Kageyama trails off, "you know..."

Hinata nods, cheeks turning red, "Yeah... Sugawara?"

Kageyama nods, "Yeah, he warned me last time Daichi punished me he'd be the one to do it next. He has a hard hand..."

Hinata laughs before stopping and turning to Kageyama, "Wait, Daichi s-spanked you?"

Kageyama nods, grimacing, "That one day he took me outside after I yelled at Asahi..."

Hinata's mouth forms an 'o' shape, "That's why you came back and sucked!"

"H-Hey!" Kageyama swats him, but it isn't mean.

Hinata giggles, "It's okay, now we've both dealt with the wrath of Daichi."

They make their way into the sleeping room, sliding onto their cots and wincing when their butts made contact with them. Despite their pain, however, they slept well.

And if Suga woke up early and found the two cuddled together, cheeks slightly red, he didn't mention anything.

But he did snap a photo. 

And sent it to the third year group chat.

And made it his lock screen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ended up being over 2k with just hinata's punishment hah.. if you'd like this from kageyama's and suga's pov (just the punishment) let me know<3 
> 
> please leave more requests! i enjoy writing this and need some motivation to get me through this quarantine haha


	5. kageyama.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sugawara warned kageyama what would happen the next time he caught an attitude. kageyama, unfortunately, had to deal with the threat first hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this goes along with the previous chapter so if you haven't read that one you may want to  
> this is kageyama's punishment with sugawara!

Kageyama knew he was fucked the moment Sugawara gripped him by the neck and dragged him outside. He had already felt his palms sweating as he was pulled into a nearby bathroom, Sugawara not wasting any time as he locked the door behind them and pointed to the chair opposite the door. He was silent, Kageyama not sure if he was too angry to speak or too tired—he _was_ woken up in the middle of the night after a long day of practice—and that only added onto the anxiety Kageyama had as Sugawara stood in front of him, arms crossed. 

"Tobio," He began, Kageyama sweating at the use of his given name, "What did I tell you would happen if you caught an attitude?"

"I didn't catch an attitude!" Kageyama argues, crossing his arms, "Hinata started all of it.."

Suga glares, "So catching an attitude before practice, starting a fight with Hinata at practice, and waking up your teammates as a result of your childish behavior isn't your fault?" 

Kageyama groans, "No! Well, yes... But!"

"Whether or not this is warranted as an "attitude" isn't the issue. The issue is you fought Hinata, even after being warned by Daichi several times."

Kageyama is silent, not wanting to argue anymore. He's far too frustrated at this point and he knows that no amount of complaining will get him out of this situation.

"Alright," Suga breaks the silence, pulling Kageyama out of the chair and sitting down in it, quick to turn the setter over his knee as he yanks his sweat pants down.

"This isn't fair!" Kageyama yelps out with a kick as a harsh slap meets his bare ass, "Hinata started it!"

Suga laughs, but not at Kageyama's pain—he isn't a sadist, "It doesn't matter _who_ started it," he smacks harshly now, not faltering his smacks even as he lectures Kageyama, "you both fought, you both get punished."

Kageyama whines, burying his head in his arms as Suga rains down relentless smacks on the setter's bottom. It's already turning slightly pink, Kageyama biting his lip to keep from squeaking out in pain.

"I'm disappointed in you," Suga quips after twenty smacks, "I expected better."

Kageyama has to hold back a sob at that. Getting punished was one thing, but hearing that his vice-captain, the setter he looked up to, was disappointed hurt even more than the punishment itself.

"You have been warned time and time again about this," Suga's voice is soft during his lecture, completely different from the harsh smacks he lets fall on Kageyama's, now red, ass, "yet you never seem to learn your lesson."

Kageyama wiggles around, Sugawara quick to stop him with a few quick smacks to his thighs. 

"Ow!" Kageyama whines out, falling limp again.

"Stop moving," he moves his hand back to his butt, "this is a reminder for you to stop fighting."

Kageyama nods, even though he knows Suga can't see him with his head buried in his arms. 

Suga pauses his spanks, Kageyama is hopeful that his punishment is over.

"I want you to go into the cabinet and hand me the hairbrush in there."

Kageyama whips his head around, eyes red from the tears he tried not to let fall, "W-What!?"

"You heard me," Suga instructs, patting his bottom and guiding him off his knee so he can retrieve the brush, "I think you need some more motivation."

Kageyama lip begins to quiver, "P-Please..." He begs, "I'll do anything, please don't use the brush on me..."

Suga looks at Kageyama, the setter looks so small and frail. His eyes are wide and full of tears, his hair a mess from sweat and his squirming. He wrings his hands in front of him, not making eye contact with the third-year setter.

"Please..."  


Suga sighs, "I'm too weak for puppy dog eyes..." He guides Kageyama back over his knee, "Fine, you win. But if this happens again I will be sure to wear a hairbrush out on your sorry behind, am I understood?"

Kageyama yelps when the smacks continue to fall, "Y-Yes! Understood!"

Suga spanks him fifteen times before he speaks again, "So why are we here?"

Kageyama hiccups, "I-I-I fought with Hinata!" He lets out a yelp when a spank falls again, "Woke ev-everyone up!"

Sugawara nods, "Alright, you're almost done..."

He lets his hand fall ten more times, Kageyama sobbing openly over his knee as he waits for the spanks to finally stop.

When Suga stops, he's quick to guide Kageyama up and pull him in for a hug. Kageyama wraps his arms around Suga in an instant, crying softly into his shoulder as Sugawara rubs his back soothingly. 

"Shh," his voice is gentle, "calm down, okay?"

Kageyama's sobs die down into soft sniffles after a few minutes. Suga smiles gently, running his fingers through his hair.

"You okay now, love?"

Kageyama feels his cheeks heat up at the pet name, "Y-Yeah..."

Suga smiles, guiding Kageyama off his lap and back into his sweatpants that ended up getting kicked across the bathroom. Despite a quiet hiss when the material comes in contact with Kageyama's sore ass, he remains quiet.

"I don't like seeing you cry, Kageyama." Suga breaks the silence, "Punishing you was one of the hardest things I've had to do.." He trails off, smiling gently, "But I did it because I care about you."

Kageyama nods, "I... I know..."

"We, Daichi and I, would never punish you in anger." He pulls Kageyama in for a tight hug, "Just stop being such a brat, okay?"

Kageyama laughs softly, "I'll try..."

Suga ruffles his hair, "I know you will, you're a good kid."

"I..." Suga looks at Kageyama, the young setter's cheeks bright red, "I'm sorry.."  


"Hey, you're already forgiven." He grabs his hand, guiding them out of the bathroom and back towards the sleeping room, "You just need to apologize to everyone in the morning, okay? You and Hinata both."

Kageyama nods, eyes drooping as he meets with Daichi and Hinata in the hallway.

The captain and vice-captain send each other knowing looks as the first-year duo head back to the sleeping room, hand in hand. 

They were gonna be okay. 

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave more requests! i know i already have some piled up (which I'm planning on writing) but i would love more!
> 
> I'm leaving for home on april 20th so I'm gonna try to write as many of these as i can before then<33
> 
> as always, thanks for the support!


	6. third years.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when members cause mischief, it's up to the third years to deal with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you Thaliaty for the request, hope you enjoy! also this is inspired by Renee montes' prompt as well<33

Karasuno was, to put it lightly, exhausted and the effects were evident on everyone. Hinata had passed out in the bath, Yamaguchi panicking and having to wake the other first-year up. Nishinoya had fallen asleep the second they returned for their matches, not having enough energy to shower or even eat—something that concerned the third-years. Kageyama was quiet, which would have been normal if not for the heavy and prominent bags decorating his eyes. Tsukishima didn't even seem to have enough energy for his snarky quips. Daichi sighed, he was nervous for them. 

"Daichi," the captain turned to Yamaguchi, the freckled boy shyly getting his attention, "Hinata and I were wondering if we could go outside and get some extra practice? I wanted to work on my pinch serves and-"

Daichi cut him off, "You guys need to rest," he reached his hand out to ruffle his hair, "I love that you want to take some extra time to improve, but I think you should focus on recharging during our off time rather than practicing, alright?"

Yamaguchi nods, "R-Right, sorry..."

He rushes out after that, Daichi frowning slightly.

He felt bad telling him no to practicing, he knew how hard Yamaguchi worked and how badly he wanted to improve, but there was no way he would let him take the extra practice time on top of their already exhausting schedule. Not to mention, Hinata was equally as exhausted—he made a note to talk to the red-head about this as well. 

He figured the conversation was over after that, he expected Yamaguchi to go to bed and not ask about it again—Yamaguchi was a good kid, he would never disobey his senpais, especially not Daichi.

A few hours pass and he figures he should make rounds, he always checked on the boys before they went to bed. Kageyama was passed out on his cot, phone on his chest. Tsukishima was reading next to Sugawara and Ennoshita, the other two quietly working on their schoolwork. Narita and Tanaka were chatting quietly in the corner, Kinoshita was sitting next to Asahi, the two looking seconds away from passing out. Daichi paused, he realized Hinata, Yamaguchi, and Nishinoya were nowhere to be found. Maybe they were in the bathroom goofing off? He sighed, the three were typically loud—Tanaka included but the second year was too tired to be energetic—so he wouldn't be surprised if they ran off to another area to goof off. However, he arrived at the bathroom to find it empty, no sign of the three anywhere. He walks back into the sleeping area, calling Asahi and Sugawara over.

"Have you guys seen Noya, Yamaguchi, or Hinata?"

Sugawara shakes his head, "I've been doing schoolwork, haven't been paying much attention to anyone the past hour." 

Daichi turns to Asahi, the third year frowning, "I thought they were asleep... I mean, they were all so exhausted I couldn't imagine them going off somewhere."

Daichi thinks back to the conversation he had with Yamaguchi earlier that night: _"extra practice. pinch serves. Hinata."_

"I think I know where they are."

Just as Daichi expected, he spies the three boys outside, volleyball in Hinata's hand as he serves it to Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi hits it back, Nishinoya receiving easily and giving a thumbs-up to the two first-years in response.

Sugawara sighs, "I'm not even surprised they'd pull something like this."

"I just thought that they wouldn't have, especially after I told Yamaguchi no."

Sugawara whips his head towards him, "You mean you already told them they couldn't practice? And they did anyway?"

"Yamaguchi disobeyed you?" Asahi seems the most surprised out of the three of them.

"So," Sugawara trails off, eyeing the other two third-years, "how do we want to deal with this?"

"I'll take Nishinoya," he turns to Asahi, the ace heaving a sigh, "I've already talked with him about this."

Daichi nods, "I'll take Hinata," he turns to Sugawara, "Are you fine with taking Yamaguchi?"

Suga nods, "Yeah, I got it."

Daichi nods, moving towards the three troublemakers, clapping a hand on Hinata's shoulder. 

"What's going on here?"

The boys freeze, Hinata dropping the ball and stiffening. 

"D-Daichi..." Nishinoya begins, panic set into his voice, "We just-well we couldn't sleep and-"

"You chose to ignore what I told Yamaguchi and come and practice anyway?"

Yamaguchi turns bright red, looking down at his feet.

"Alright," Sugawara breaks the silence, "Yamaguchi, come with me."

Yamaguchi nods, letting the vice-captain pull him aside and away from the others. They head to a closed-off area, Sugawara deeming this a private enough spot. Sugawara sits on the curb, pulling Yamaguchi in front of him. 

"Why did you disobey Daichi?" Suga asks, arms crossing.

Yamaguchi already begins tearing up, "I-I.. I just... I'm not good enough!"

Sugawara freezes at that, looking up with a sad look on his face.

"I feel like I need to improve myself, I don't deserve to take time to relax when I can be working hard. Working to help the team I-"

He's cut off by Sugawara pulling him over his lap. The position is awkward, but Suga manages to arrange himself so Yamaguchi can lay across his raised knee and his palms grip onto Sugawara's foot. 

"W-What are you doing?"

Sugawara rubs his back, "You're being punished, Yamaguchi." He reaches his hand to tug down the boy's shorts, a cool air tickling his bare ass. 

"P-Punished? I-I..." He breathes heavily, twisting in a vain effort to escape Sugawara.

Sugawara swats his hand down, causing Yamaguchi to gasp out and still.

"You're going to get a spanking," Yamaguchi whines out, "for disobeying your captain and talking negatively about yourself."

Sugawara starts spanking him after that, Yamaguchi gasping out and whining with each sharp smack against his ass. 

Suga spanks in silence, the only sounds are the sound of his palm meeting Yamaguchi's bare butt and the frequent yelps from the freckled boy. Yamaguchi kicks out after a rather sharp smack meets his thigh, he bits onto his lip and grips onto Sugawara's foot as several more fall into the same spot in quick succession. 

"You know better than to disobey your senpais," he scolds, moving his hand to hit back on his ass instead of his thighs, "especially when you should be resting."

Yamaguchi cries out, body falling limp, "I-I'm so s-sorry!" He sobs out, snot pouring from his nose and falling onto Sugawara's pant leg. 

Sugawara feels his heart clench at his kouhai's sobs, but he needs to learn his lesson.

"I don't ever want to hear your talk bad about yourself again, am I understood?" 

He lands three more sharp swats to his bottom before he stops, rubbing gently over the first-year's reddened ass as he calms his sobs.

"You are far too talented and dedicated to talk yourself down, love." 

Yamaguchi is still sobbing over Sugawara's knee, breathing heavily.

"I-I'm sorry!"

Suga pulls him up, hugging him tightly as he calms the boy down. 

"Shh, no more apologies," he runs his fingers through his hair, his other hand tracing his back lightly, "you're okay."

Nishinoya yelps as Asahi's hand comes down onto his bare ass again, the libero holding back tears as he lays helplessly over his ace's knee.

"A-Asahi!" He yelps as the swats continue to fall harshly, "Please!"

Asahi ignores him, continuing to spank harshly. He had talked to Nishinoya several times about his tendency to over practice, even before Daichi had spanked him that one day for it. Asahi had even turned Noya over his knee and wore a wooden spoon out over his butt the last time he had done it.

"How many times have we talked about this?"

Noya blubbers over his knee, "I-I.. Uhm..."

Asahi spanks sharply, "You can't remember, can you? Because it's been far too many."

"Y-Yes! I'm sorry!"

Asahi sighs, landing two more spanks before stopping, "Go get me a switch."

"W-What!?"

"Now, Yuu." He guides the boy off his lap, pointing to a nearby tree. 

Nishinoya grumbles, rubbing his reddened ass as he walks towards the tree and tears a small branch from it. 

He comes back, handing it Asahi as his cheeks turn the same red as his bottom. 

Asahi nods, turning the boy back over his knee and letting the switch swat down twice.

"Fuck!"

Asahi tuts, swatting down sharply, "Language."

Nishinoya kicks as the switch continues to swat against his ass, it hurts far worse than Asahi's hand and he barely has time to think in between each quick swat. 

"You are the senpai in this situation," Asahi scolds, not slowing with the switch, "you should have been the one to stop Hinata and Yamaguchi from practicing."

Nishinoya begins sobbing, "I-I'm sorry! A-Asahi, please!"

"I'm disappointed in you, Yuu." He lets the switch fall ten more times, Nishinoya openly sobbing over his knee and giving up any attempt to fight back.

Asahi tosses the switch aside, pulling Nishinoya up and into his lap. He instantly begins to soothe the younger boy, rubbing his back and kissing his forehead gently.

"Hey, hey," his voice is gentle, "I'm not mad, baby, I'm not."

Nishinoya lets out a small sob, nodding against his shoulder, "I-I know, I just feel-feel..." He trails off, breath hitching.

"It's okay, shh," he continues to rub his back, "just calm down, okay?"

Daichi has to practically pin Hinata's legs down between his, the red-head yelling and squirming around the second Daichi tugs his pants down.

"No! No, please!"

Daichi swats his hand down, "Hold still, Hinata."

Hinata yelps as five more fall quickly, the first-year letting his legs fall down in defeat as Daichi continues to spank him.

"Have we not had a conversation about your tendency to over practice?"

Hinata remains quiet, yelping when two swats hit against his thighs.

"Y-Yes, we have!"

"So then why are you over my knee again for something we've already talked about?"

Hinata sobs out as the swats become harsher, Daichi moving his hand from his thighs back to his ass and not faltering with the harsh rhythm once. 

"I-I'm sorry!"

Daichi nods, continuing to smack, "I bet you are."

"P-Please! Daichi, please! No more! I'm sorry!" He continues to sob openly over his knee, the smacks continuing its relentless pattern against his bare ass.

"I hope you've learned your lesson."

Hinata sobs out again, "I have! Da-Daichi I have!" He breathes heavily, "Dad!"

Daichi immediately stops spanking Hinata, the younger boy sobbing openly over his knee and shaking. 

"I-I'm so sorry..."

Daichi feels his heart clench, immediately pulling Hinata in for a hug. He soothes the young boy, running his hand over his back and holding him close.

"You're okay, you're okay," Hinata slowly turns his sobs into sniffles, "I'm not mad.."

Hinata nods against his chest, "I didn't mean to-"

Daichi cuts him off with a small kiss to his forehead, "It's okay, love. You guys joke about it so much it doesn't even phase me."

Hinata nods, cheeks bright red as he buries himself further into Daichi's shoulder. 

Daichi rocks gently as he soothes Hinata, the young boy slowly losing energy.

"Just relax," Daichi's voice is soft, Hinata slowly drifting off into a deep sleep in Daichi's arms.

He smiles softly, pulling his shorts up gently in an attempt not to wake the exhausted boy.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out, snapping a photo and sending it to his groupchat with Asahi and Sugawara.

_Daichi: Someone is exhausted_

_[photo attached]_

_suwuga: is he asleep??_

_suwuga: so precious!_

_Daichi: He called me dad too..._

_Assahi: Wow, Daichi really is a dad._

_Assahi: Proud of you._

_suwuga: haha cute_

_suwuga: i just brought yamaguchi back inside_

_suwuga: he passed out the second his head hit his cot_

_Assahi: Same with Noya, he's currently curled against my side sound asleep._

Daichi smiles and pockets his phone. He carefully stands and picks Hinata up, carrying him back inside and back into the room the rest of the team is in. Tsukishima has Yamaguchi's head on his lap as he reads, glancing over to a sleeping Hinata in Daichi's arms with a knowing look.

Daichi tucks Hinata in, pulling the covers over him and smiling softly, turning to see the rest of the team staring at him with smirks on their faces.

"What? What are you all staring at?"

"Nothing, dad." Tanaka giggles, Daichi's face reddening as he buries his face in his hands. 

The team all laughs gently.

Daichi already knew they were going to tease poor Hinata come morning. 

He lays in his cot, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't mind being called dad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idc what anyone says, hinata would 100% call daichi dad no questions asked.
> 
> leave more requests! i have a few more piled up that are in the works but I'll take more from y'all<3
> 
> thanks for the support!!


	7. yaku.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yaku doesn't like lev, not really, but he has never been terribly awful to him. until the day he makes him cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to Raiern for requesting a yaku and kuroo chapter! hope you enjoy <3

Kuroo was well aware of Nekoma's opinion on Lev. Ever since the first year arrived there had been more gossip among the team than in a girl's locker room and Kuroo knew it affected Lev, even if the first-year chose to smile after each insult. The captain felt bad for the upcoming ace, he had been working extremely hard with Kenma—much to the setter's disapproval, Kuroo had to practically threaten him with the loss of his PSP if he didn't help—and he was slowly becoming more familiarized with the game itself. He figured that after the prelims match the team would become more accepting of the tall first-year, he had proven himself against Nohebi and managed to help them win their second set. 

Going into Nationals, Kuroo felt hopeful. He had a great set of teammates, all talented and dedicated, and despite Yaku's foot still being injured, he only had to sit out for a few more days before he was clear to play again. They were going to do good, they were going to go far. 

"Kuroo!" The captain is pulled from his thoughts, turning towards utter chaos.

Kenma is sitting on the ground next to Lev, a hand to his face and his head down. The half-Russian first year looking away meekly, eyes boring holes into his shoes.

"What happened?" Kuroo quickly sets into a panicked state, Kenma was hurt? Did Lev run into him?

Yamamoto sighs, "Kenma was setting for him and the giant ended up snacking him on his rebound. 

Kuroo walks towards the duo, gesturing out to Kenma to help his friend up from the ground.

"Are you okay?"

Kenma brushes himself off, holding a hand to his throbbing eye. Kuroo already knows it's gonna bruise. 

"Yeah, no worries," he sends a quick glance to Lev, "don't beat yourself up over this, it was my fault for not moving."

Lev nods slowly, still not looking up.

Kuroo smiles softly, glad to see that Kenma is slowly warming up to Lev. He was scared that the second year would never begin to like him.

"Go sit out for a bit," Kuroo guides Kenma to the bench, sitting him down and handing him a water bottle, "I think Kai went to get ice."

Kenma nods, grabbing the water bottle and sipping it, "I think Yaku is pissed."

"What?" He turns to see the libero off to the side, arms crossed with a scowl, "Why?"

Kenma shrugs, "Probably has to deal with the fact that he can't practice right now."

"So he's taking it out on Lev?" He glanced over to see Yaku scolding Lev, the first-year looking down and glancing towards Kenma with a sad look on his face. 

Kuroo groans, ruffling Kenma's hair and making his way towards the duo.

"You're still sloppy," Yaku continues, "I told you your rebound was too forceful and you managed to knock Kenma with it."

"Not to mention, we've been running the same sets with you for weeks and you still haven't managed to improve them."

"I'm sorry..." Lev finally speaks, foot scuffing against the linoleum.

Yaku snorts, "You keep saying you want to be our ace yet you can't even manage to hit a simple serve?"

"Yaku," Kuroo interrupts, glancing towards Lev who looks like he's on the verge of tears, "give it a rest. He feels bad enough for hurting Kenma." 

"He hurt him because he's clumsy," Yaku glares at the captain. What he lacks in height, he makes up for in snarky remarks. 

"He's gotten better."

"He's still shit!"

The gym goes silent after Yaku's outburst. Kuroo turns to see Lev softly crying, Shibayama coming beside him and guiding him away from the two third-years.

Kuroo is furious. He knew that Yaku didn't really like Lev, but he had never made him cry like that. He takes a deep breath, the libero completely unphased by what had just happened. Yaku was being, to put it simply, a brat. A complete and utter brat. Kuroo exhales, reaching for Yaku's shoulder.

"We need to talk."

The two end up in the changing room, Kuroo letting the door close behind them as he turns to the libero. His head is down, body completely stiff. 

"What is your problem?"

Yaku looks up at that, "What do you mean?"

"Do you enjoy making the first-years cry?" 

Yaku's face quickly morphs from anger to confusion, "I.. I made him cry?"

Did he not realize? 

"Yes, Yaku," he sighs, "you said he was 'shit', do you blame him?"

"I was just being honest..."

"Honest or not, that's not okay," Yaku wrings his hands in front of him as Kuroo scolds him, "I know you don't really like Lev, but what you did out there was not okay."

"I don't _not_ like him..." Yaku's voice goes soft, seemingly understanding exactly what he did wrong.

"I'm sure Lev thinks that you don't like him."

Yaku goes quiet again, either thinking of what to say or simply choosing to remain silent. 

"I'm sorry..."

Kuroo glances at him, "It's not me you need to apologize to, Yaku."

"I know I just," he lets out a shaky breath, "he'll never forgive me, will he?"

"Aw, c'mon now," Kuroo slings an arm over his shoulder, "Lev is understanding. He looks up to you, y'know."

Yaku beings to cry upon hearing that, Kuroo quick to pull him in for a hug. 

"I...I feel so bad..." Yaku whispers, Kuroo rubbing a hand down his back for comfort. 

"C-Could you..." He trails off, looking up at Kuroo, "punish me?"

Kuroo freezes, "Huh?"

"I-I know you've punished Kenma before," Kuroo's cheeks slightly redden at that, "he's talked to me about it when I noticed he was squirming in his seat, and I-I just feel so bad..." He wipes away a tear, "Please?"

Yaku ends up over Kuroo's knee shortly after, shorts and boxers bunched around his ankles as Kuroo begins to swat the libero's bare backside. 

Yaku squirms slightly under the sharp swats, gasping when they begin to fall harder and faster.

"Hold still," Kuroo scolds, moving his hand to lay down harsh swats against his thighs.

Yaku yelps out, leg kicking up—Kuroo landing five more swats to the same spot. 

"I'm not gonna warn you again, Yaku."

Yaku cries gently but he stops kicking, falling limp over Kuroo's lap as the captain continues to spank him.

Kuroo's spanks are relentless and sharp, the captain not allowing Yaku anytime to breathe as they continue to rain sharply down onto the latter's bare ass. 

"Why are you being punished, Morisuke?"

Yaku yelps out, "I-I made Lev cry!"

Kuroo nods, continuing to spank him, "You did. What else did you do?"

"I-I said he was... he was shit..."

Three sharp smacks land against his sit-spots, Yaku yowling in pain.

"You did. I should wash your mouth out with soap for such foul language," Yaku's face turns bright red, "but I'll let it slide this time."

Kuroo spanks him ten more times, stopping and letting his hand rest against the small of Yaku's back.

"Go into my bag and bring me my hairbrush."

Yaku's head shoots up, "W-What!?"

"Hairbrush. Bag. Now."

Yaku whimpers but gets up, wincing as he walks towards Kuroo's bag and retrieves the hairbrush. He hands it to him, Kuroo turning him back over his knee. 

"Let this be a reminder of what happens when you make your teammates cry."

Kuroo smacks the brush down after that, Yaku gasping at the sharp sting against his bare ass.

If he thought Kuroo's hand was bad the brush was far, far worse. 

The smacks continue to fall, Yaku a sobbing mess over Kuroo's lap as the captain lays down swat after swat onto his backside.

"Are you ever going to make a teammate cry again?" Kuroo breaks the silence after fifteen more smacks, pausing his motion.

Yaku lets out a sob, "N-No! Never! I'm so sorry!"

Kuroo nods, "Fifteen more, count them." He lets the brush swat against his thighs.

Yaku whines loudly, "One!"

The brush falls twice more, Yaku yelping out a "two" and "three". The pattern continues, Yaku sobbing and hiccuping over Kuroo's knee.

"P-Please! No more, I-I'm so sor-sorry!"

"You have three more, Yaku."

The libero lets out another sob but stops arguing, bracing himself for the remaining spanks he'll receive. 

"Thirteen!"

SWAT.

"F-Fourteen!"

SWAT.

"F-Fifteen!"

Kuroo tosses the brush to the side, moving his hand to rub soothingly on Yaku's back as the other boy sobs out. 

"I-I'm so sorry..." 

Kuroo soothes him, continuing to rub his back gently as Yaku's sobs slowly turn into sniffles. When he's calmed down enough, Kuroo helps him up, the libero sliding his boxers and shorts back up and turning to Kuroo with red eyes.

"T-Thank you..." His voice is quiet, eyes not meeting the captains.

Kuroo smiles, giving him another hug, "You're okay, Morisuke." 

Yaku nods, wiping his nose with his hand, "I...I should go apologize to Lev."

Kuroo leads the two of them outside and back into the gym, the rest of the team turning to the two the second they come back.

Yaku instantly reddens, looking down as he makes his way towards Lev. The first-year looks confused for a minute, Yaku is quick to wrap his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I-I'm sorry Lev," Yaku tells him, "You're not shit, I shouldn't have said that..."

Lev smiles brightly, "You weren't wrong, I do need to improve. I keep messing up simple things and Kenma got hurt because of it."

"No, no, don't worry about that." Yaku urges, hugging him tighter, "You've already improved so much."

Kuroo smiles from the side, Kenma standing next to him with a bag of ice against his black eye.

"What did you do to Yaku?"

Kuroo laughs, "Just had to give him a little 'talking to'." He turns to Kenma, a smirk on his face, "You talk to Yaku about your punishments a lot, hmm?"

Kenma instantly reddens, "I hate you..."

"It's okay," he slings his arm around his shoulder, "you two can bond about it now."

Kenma rolls his eyes, but he isn't annoyed.

Yaku and Lev are still hugging, the other Nekoma members laughing loudly and Yaku blushing when he finally pulls away. Despite how sore he must be, Yaku looks far more relaxed than he has in a while. 

Kuroo smiles, they're gonna be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo~
> 
> i honestly loved writing this chapter! yaku is one of my favorites and after rewatching some of the ovas with nekoma, i felt extremely motivated to write this one<3  
> i typically don't write "consensual" spankings, considering they're punishments, but i figured yaku would feel so guilty he'd ask for a spanking.  
> i also like the idea of kenma telling yaku about his and kuroo's arrangement, not by choice due to his obvious squirming.
> 
> please leave some more requests!
> 
> also, thank you for 1000 hits<333 it means a lot to me that i have so many of you guys supporting this!!


	8. oikawa.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oikawa tooru lives by his personal motto, iwaizumi becomes concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to HaikyuuAnimeFan for requesting an iwaoi chapter! hope you enjoy!!

Oikawa Tooru was a phenomenal player, everyone knew that. He had a certain charm that all the girls, and some boys, seemed to swoon over and he constantly blew everyone away with not only his skill but his ability to be such a great captain as well. Despite the troubles in middle school between him and Tobio, his greatest enemy, Oikawa had come a long way. However, Oikawa's work ethic was something that concerned his team, mainly Iwaizumi. 

Oikawa had injured his knee in middle school and had not allowed it time to rest since. Of course, the coach had made him take it easy and constantly made him sit out, but that never stopped Oikawa from practicing. Over-practicing, that is. Ever since middle school, Oikawa's personality had changed. Naturally, Iwaizumi knew it was because of Tobio, Oikawa had felt threatened and inferior towards his natural talent and caused Oikawa to snap. He thinks back to the time when he and Tobio were swapped out, Oikawa grudging from the bench as the first-year became the setter. Despite his constant teasing, Iwaizumi actually felt concerned for his childhood friend. He had lost his drive, become stressed easily and began practicing more and eating far less. It was never a major issue until he raised his hand to strike Tobio after a match, Iwaizumi intercepting just in time. That was the first time Iwaizumi had punished Oikawa. He scolded the captain before turning him over his knee, Oikawa gasping and writhing in shock as a quick series of spanks were delivered to his short-clad backside. Iwaizumi helped him up, Oikawa instantly softening and hugging his friend, the two never spoke about it again and Iwaizumi hadn't spanked Oikawa since then either.

Until their third year of high school, that is. Oikawa had a bad problem of not resting, even when he was to the point of complete exhaustion. He lived by his personal motto, he would work himself until the point of breaking, Iwaizumi having to drag the captain out by the ear and scolding him, but Oikawa would do the same thing the very next day.

"Oikawa," Iwaizumi sighed, leaning against the door frame as Oikawa spiked another ball over the net, "give it a rest."

Oikawa turned to him, signature smirk on his face, "Surprised you're still here, Iwa-chan." He tossed another ball up, spiking it and letting out a sound of annoyance when it wasn't perfect. 

"I came to drag your ass home," he sighs, moving towards him, "you're gonna wreck your knee again and if that happens I'll beat your ass."

Oikawa scoffs, "Have you no faith in your dear captain, Iwa-chan?" He spins the ball in his hand, smiling softly.

"When's the last time you ate?"

Oikawa freezes, the ball stopping its movement, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Tooru," Oikawa winces, he knew that it was never good when Iwaizumi chose to use his given name rather than his nicknames, he had grown accustomed to "Shittykawa" or "Trashykawa", "have you been eating?"

Oikawa sighs, "Yes, _mom_." He teases, moving to set again and letting the ball get spiked over the net. He lands wrong, wincing on impact.

Iwaizumi is quick to notice, "How's your knee?"

Oikawa hums, moving to pick up another ball, "Fine."

Iwaizumi moves towards him in an instant, Oikawa eyes widening as his knee pad is ripped down, his knee swollen up and bruised. 

Oikawa looks away, Iwaizumi staring at him as he lets his hand rest again his knee.

"Why the hell are you practicing if your knee is this bad?"

Oikawa shrugs, "Need to improve."

Iwaizumi sighs. After their near defeat to Karasuno, Oikawa spent the majority of his time practicing. He often skipped lunch to practice and stayed late after practice as well. Iwaizumi had to drag him out and force him to go home, but that never stopped the captain from over-working himself. 

"You need to rest," Iwaizumi pointed out, letting his hand tap lightly against Oikawa's bruised knee, "If you want to beat Tobio, you can't ruin your knee." 

Oikawa sighs, "I can't let him beat me, Iwa-chan."

"He won't," Iwaizumi sighs, "but you won't have a chance to prove it if your dumbass won't take a break."

Oikawa scoffs, "I don't have time for that," he pulls himself out of Iwaizumi's hold, quickly moving to set the ball and hitting it over the net, his knee throbbing under him.

Iwaizumi scowls, "Right, that's it." Oikawa turns to him, gasping as Iwaizumi grabs his arm and yanks him away from the court and towards the side.

He sits down on a folding chair still set out from the earlier practice match. Oikawa gasps as Iwaizumi turns him over his knee, pulling his shorts and underwear down as he lands a harsh smack to the middle of his bare butt.

"I-Iwa-chan!"

Iwaizumi continues to lay smack after smack, Oikawa wiggling to get out of his reach. Iwaizumi is quick to wrap his legs around Oikawa's, pinning the captain into place as he lets out a whine.

"I'm sick and tired of you working yourself to exhaustion," he scolds as he continues to spank him, "stop saying you're not good enough," another smack, "that you need to improve," another one.

Oikawa hisses as the smacks move down to his thighs, kicking his leg, "P-Please!"

"You can't keep doing this, Tooru."

The swats begin to fall sharply, repetitive smacks quick to cover his ass and thighs as Iwaizumi relentlessly spanks him.

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa whines, kicking again, "Stop!"

Iwaizumi shakes his head, "Not until you've learned your lesson, brat."

Oikawa whines at that, "I'm not a brat!"

Iwaizumi shakes his head, "Then hold still."

He continues to spank in silence after that, the sound of his palm hitting against Oikawa's bare ass echoing in the gym. He knows Oikawa is in pain, but he's far too stubborn to admit his faults. Iwaizumi sighs, releasing his legs from his own and patting his butt in an attempt to guide him off his knee.

Oikawa stands up, his eyes are slightly red, "Is that it?"

"Not even close," Oikawa pouts, arms crossing, "I think a brush will help get my point across, though."

Oikawa's mouth falls open, "I-Iwa-chan! You can't be serious!" He whines again, the pout on his face growing larger.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, "Stay there, don't move a muscle."

He moves towards his bag, glancing over his shoulder to see Oikawa standing where he left him, hands moving to rub at his reddened ass. He retrieves a hairbrush from his bag, tapping against his palm with a nod, before moving back towards Oikawa.

"Alright," he sits back down, patting his knee, "back over, Tooru."

Oikawa whines, "Please, no more!" He slowly backs away, Iwaizumi grabbing his bicep and turning him back over his knee, Oikawa yelping as his stomach lands with a thud against Iwaizumi's knee. 

Iwaizumi wastes no time in letting the hairbrush fall against Tooru's bare ass, Oikawa gasping out as five sharp swats fall down.

"I-Iwa-chan!"

Iwaizumi ignores him, continuing to spank him. Oikawa is writhing over his knee, hands gripping Iwaizumi's pant leg and his nose beginning to run, snot falling against the floor.

"Why are we here, Tooru?" Iwaizumi breaks the silence after twenty spanks.

"I-I-" he whines, "over-practiced!"

Iwaizumi nods, "Good, what else?"

Oikawa is quiet, yelping when the brush falls against his ass again, "D-Doubted myself?"

"Are you asking or telling me?"

Oikawa lets out a choked-up sob as three harsh swats meet his thighs, "T-Telling! I'm telling you! Hajime!"

Iwaizumi hears the faintest sob come out of Oikawa, he nods.

"What else?"

Oikawa sobs, "I-I-I don't know! Hajime, please! I'm sorry!"

Iwaizumi lets the brush fall a few more times, Oikawa sobbing as harsh swats meet his already sore ass. 

He stops after ten more hits against his ass, letting the brush rest against it, "You're not taking care of yourself."

Oikawa begins hiccuping, unable to speak.

"You haven't eaten a real meal the past few days and you've put volleyball before sleep." Iwaizumi sighs, "I'm worried about you, Tooru."

Oikawa lets out a loud sob at that, "Hajime! I'm so sorry! S-So sorry!"

Iwaizumi nods, picking the brush back up, "I know," he swats it down, "this is why we're here."

The brush falls twenty times, sharply against Oikawa's bare ass, before it stops. Iwaizumi tosses it to the side, instantly moving his hand to rub gently up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him. 

Oikawa is sobbing over his knee, hiccuping and gripping onto Iwaizumi's pant leg.

"Shh," Iwaizumi calms him, guiding him up and hugging him tightly. Oikawa is quick to wrap his arms around him, sobbing into his chest, "Calm down, Tooru."

It takes a good fifteen minutes for Oikawa's sobs to turn into sniffles, Iwaizumi guiding him to look him in the eyes.

"I care about you, Tooru." Iwaizumi's voice is soft, his eyes full of concern, "I don't want you to be out for the rest of the season because of your stubbornness."

Oikawa nods, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, "I know... I'm sorry, Hajime."

"You're forgiven," Iwaizumi hugs him again, rubbing his hand up and down Oikawa's back, "It's okay."

Oikawa nods, resting his head against Iwaizumi's shoulder.

"From now on," Oikawa looks up and meets Iwaizumi's eyes, "you're not allowed to skip lunch to practice. You are going straight home after our practices and eating a full meal then going to bed, am I understood?"

Oikawa pouts, "Are you going to mother me, Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi laughs, "I could always turn you over my knee again."

Oikawa's face turns bright red, quickly turning away with a pout.

"I'm going to make sure you're taking care of yourself," Iwaizumi rubs his back again, "I can't have you working yourself to death before we even finish our season."

Oikawa nods, letting out a huge yawn as he nuzzles his cheek against Iwaizumi's chest. Iwaizumi smiles softly, stroking his hair as he lays his chin against the top of his head.

It's nice to see Oikawa so calm, so relaxed and reserved. Iwaizumi holds his hand, squeezing it gently.

"We should get you home," Iwaizumi guides him off his lap, letting Oikawa redress himself, "you need to eat some dinner, take a shower, and go straight to bed, okay?"

Oikawa nods, his eyes are drooping and Iwaizumi is scared he'll fall asleep standing up.

"Come on you big baby," Iwaizumi teases, grabbing Oikawa's hand and guiding him out of the gym, turning the lights off and locking the doors behind them.

They walk home, hand in hand, a comfortable silence between them. Iwaizumi walks Oikawa home, the captain yawning as he gets to the door.

"Hey, Iwa-chan?" He turns to Iwaizumi with a small smile, "Thank you..."

Iwaizumi nods, "Sure thing, Tooru." He waves goodbye, turning to leave, "Get some rest, okay?"

Oikawa gets his best night of sleep in a while that night, sore bottom and previous worries forgotten as he falls into a deep slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oikawa is my FAVORITE character and i have been wanting to write an iwaoi chapter for ages so i hope you all enjoy this!! i felt as though it was pretty canon, haha.
> 
> leave more requests! i have a few lined up that I'm going to get written and posted within the next week so keep an eye out for those ^__^
> 
> have a good day/night<3 
> 
> until next time~


	9. bokuto.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bokuto has a bad problem with “forgetting” to take his medicine good thing akaashi is there to help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note! i have headcanoned bokuto to have adhd i know it’s not canon but i 100% see him having it because i do too and we have the same personality. if for some reason this bugs you, please skip this chapter. otherwise, enjoy!

Bokuto was a handful, everyone knew that. He constantly was yelling and full of far too much energy and he got onto everyone on Fukurodani's volleyball team nerves, but they all still loved their captain. His frequent "emo modes" drove Akaashi up a wall, the ace would get sad if Akaashi didn't serve to him but he would be upset if he did, there was no winning with him sometimes. Despite all of this, Bokuto was a great volleyball player and a great captain. Akaashi couldn't even count on both hands the number of times he did some ridiculous play that ended up being successful, he was always shocked by his friend and captain. Akaashi never really worried about Bokuto, he always managed to bounce back from his episodes and never was the type to work himself to death with practicing. However, there was one thing he had a big problem with.

"Bokuto-san, did you take your medicine?" Akaashi closed his book and glanced over at his friend, the older boy tapping his pencil repeatedly on his desk as he cocked his head towards the vice-captain. 

"Yes." The answer was blunt, Bokuto not making eye contact, "Took it this morning."

Akaashi sighed, "Did you really?"

Bokuto pouts, "Why don't you believe me, Akaashi?"

"You've been tapping your pencil for the past hour and you keep humming."

Bokuto looks away sheepishly, "Okay... I didn't take it."

"Go and take it now, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto huffs and gets up from his desk, opening his bedside table and pulling out his ADHD medication, quickly dry swallowing the tablet with a grimace.

"I have water right here, you know." Akaashi tuts, "You don't always have to act like some tough guy."

Bokuto laughs, "I don't mind it."

"I should start asking every day, just to make sure you take it."

Bokuto whines, "Akaashi! I'm not a child, I can remember."

"Let me worry about you, okay?"

The two continue working in silence after that, Bokuto's tapping coming to a stop and his focus returning to his homework in front of him.

Akaashi looks over with a smile.

Bokuto hated taking his ADHD medicine. It gave him really bad headaches and he was always nauseous, not to mention he became more irritable. Akaashi tried reassuring him he was as chipper as ever but Bokuto could never believe him, Akaashi was far too nice to him. 

Bokuto bites his lip as his pencil stops its tapping, he hadn't taken his medication in two weeks.

He knew Akaashi would scold him, but he was tired of the side effects. Besides, his attention had gotten better and there weren't any upcoming finals he had to focus on, he'd be fine.

Akaashi constantly kept an eye on Bokuto ever since his ADHD diagnosis, constantly making sure he was taking his medication and making sure he was getting his work done. Bokuto appreciated that he cared so much but it was also kind of embarrassing to have someone younger than him mothering him.

Bokuto huffs, leaning back in his chair. He turns as his bedroom door opens, Akaashi walking in with a small smile.

"You didn't answer your phone," Akaashi states, "I texted you."

Bokuto fishes his phone out of his pocket, Akaashi's name popping on the screen. 

"Sorry, was doing homework."

Akaashi nods, moving to sit on the bed and laying back with a flop.

Bokuto begins tapping his pencil urgently, his nervousness making him look everywhere in the room beside his friend laying on his bed. He knew Akaashi was going to lecture him, the boy could tell whenever Bokuto was lying or there was something wrong with him.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi broke the lingering silence, "I can hear you thinking."

Bokuto lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, "Sorry!"

"How's your work coming?"

Akaashi had moved to stand behind Bokuto, head peering over his shoulder as Bokuto stares at his blank paper.

"Uh, not well," he lets his pencil tap against his worksheet again, "can't focus. Not really sure what I'm supposed to be doing and everything is distracting me and this is due tomorrow but I haven't even started it-"

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi cuts off Bokuto's rambling, "relax."

Bokuto heaves a sigh, "Sorry, I'm just..." He trails off, unable to find the right words.

"You've been taking your medicine, haven't you?"

Bokuto freezes, licking his lips, "Y-Yes."

"You're a terrible liar, Bokuto-san."

"I have been taking it! I promise!"

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, "Really?" 

"Of course! It's not like I'd lie to you about it."

Shut up, Bokuto. He thinks, mentally slapping himself.

Akaashi sighs, closing his eyes, "You need to take your medicine."

"It gives me headaches..." He whines out, pouting up at Akaashi, "and-and makes me lose my appetite."

"I know," Akaashi tries to soothe him before he goes full "emo mode", "but you need to take it. You have work you need to get done and don't think I haven't been noticing your lack of concentration in practice recently."

Bokuto nods solemnly, "'kay..."

"When's the last time you took it?"

Bokuto is silent, not meeting Akaashi's eyes.

"Bokuto."

"I-I think..." he trails off, "two weeks ago?"

Akaashi is silent, staring at Bokuto with wide eyes, "You mean to tell me that you've been lying to me these past two weeks about taking your medicine? You haven't taken it since I reminded you the last time I was over?"

Bokuto bites his lip, "I guess?"

"I know you don't like it but you take it for a reason, Bokuto-san."

"I'm sorry..."

Akaashi begins to think. He hated seeing Bokuto so upset over his medication, but he knew that he needed to take it. Not only that, but he had also lied to Akaashi about taking and hadn't taken it in two weeks. Akaashi had grown used to having to take care of Bokuto, and this situation wasn't any different. Except well, was he really thinking about doing it? He and Bokuto had talked about it before, having Akaashi take control over him—not sexually, Bokuto wasn't wanting that and Akaashi was quick to agree. Akaashi looks up at Bokuto, the ace solemnly looking at Akaashi with sad eyes.

He nods, "Right," he starts, Bokuto staring at him, "I think you need some motivation to take your medicine and a little reminder to not lie to me about it."

Bokuto stares at him and blinks once, then again, before the gears in his head start turning.

"Oh..." his voice is barely a whisper and he's no longer making eye contact with Akaashi. "O-Okay."

Akaashi nods, moving to sit on the bed, adjusting himself and getting comfortable before calling Bokuto over. 

Bokuto meekly makes his way over, standing in front of Akaashi. He takes a deep breath before settling himself over Akaashi's lap, shoving his head into his arms as Akaashi rests his hand against his back. 

Akaashi nods, even though he knows Bokuto can't see it and reaches to tug Bokuto's shorts down, letting them fall to his knees.

Akaashi steadies himself before letting his hand fall down against Bokuto's butt, his boxers providing a thin layer of protection. 

Bokuto gasps but stays quiet, Akaashi letting his hand fall again.

When Bokuto continues to stay quiet, Akaashi decides to pick up the pace. He lets his hand fall faster and harder, Bokuto gasping and wiggling slightly under Akaashi's loose hold as his spanks grow sharper. 

Akaashi stops after twenty spanks, moving to tug Bokuto's underwear down. Bokuto whines slightly, the noise muffled by his head in his arms. 

Akaashi continues to spank him after that, the swats louder and sharper now that they're no longer muffled by underwear. Despite the obvious discomfort Bokuto is in, he remains quiet, his whines muffled and his body remaining still.

Akaashi had expected Bokuto to be a complete drama queen, squirming and crying over his lap after only a few spanks, so to see him behaving is quite shocking.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi speaks up after a few more spanks, “why are we here?”

Bokuto takes a while to respond, Akaashi swatting harshly onto his thigh and eliciting a sharp yelp from the ace.

“Ow!” He whines, “I-I didn’t take my medicine!”

Akaashi nods, rubbing his hand up and down Bokuto’s back, “Why else?”

“I lied...” He sniffles, “Told you I was taking it when-when I wasn’t.”

Akaashi smiles softly, “Yes, that’s right.” He moves his hand back to rest against Bokuto’s red butt, “I don’t like you lying to me, especially when it’s about something as serious as your medication.”

He begins to spank again, Bokuto yelling out as the spanks become sharper.

“It’s been two weeks, hasn’t it?”

Bokuto nods, “Y-Yea..”

“You’re getting fourteen more then. One for each day you didn’t take your medicine and chose to lie about it.”

Akaashi lets his hand fall against Bokuto’s thighs and sit spots, the ace yelling loudly as the spanks start stinging.

“A-Akaashi!”

Akaashi is surprised to get a reaction, he had expected Bokuto to remain stoic the entire time.

“Please, Akaashi!” He kicks as the seventh spank lands sharply on the undercurve of his butt, “I-I’m sorry!”

Akaashi lands eight and nine on his thigh, Bokuto hissing.

“I know, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi’s voice is gentle, even when the tenth spank sharply meets his left thigh, “you’re almost done.”

Bokuto lets out a strangled cry on the eleventh spank, this one landing in the same spot as before. Twelve and thirteen fall before Bokuto lets out a loud sob.

“Please!”

Akaashi rubs the reddened spot, “Last one, okay?”

Bokuto nods, nose beginning to run as Akaashi lifts his hand once more and lets it fall against the same spot once more.

Bokuto lets out a strangled cry, falling limp and crying softly over Akaashi’s knee as the younger boy strokes his hand up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Shh, calm down,” Akaashi’s voice is gentle, “take deep breaths, Bokuto.”

Bokuto moves to sit on Akaashi’s lap, wrapping his arms around the younger and hugging him as though his life depended on it.

Akaashi smiles, “You’re okay, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto cries softly into his chest, Akaashi rubbing his back and stroking his hair calmingly. Bokuto stops sobbing after about fifteen minutes, his sobs turning into quiet sniffles and his body no longer shaking.

“You okay, Bo?”

Bokuto nods, pulling away and smiling softly. His eyes are red and his nose is running, but he looks far more relaxed than he has in ages.

“I’m okay, sorry for crying on you.”

Akaashi nods, “It’s fine.” He strokes his cheek, “I’m used to it, really.”

Bokuto groans, “Akaashi!”

Akaashi laughs, glad that Bokuto is back to his normal self.

“No more lying about your medicine, okay?” Bokuto looks away meekly, Akaashi grabbing his chin and turning him towards his eyes, “You need to take it. Because if something like this happens again, I’ll be sure to use a hairbrush on you, okay?”

Bokuto’s eyes widen and he nods aggressively, not wanting to even think about Akaashi’s threat.

Akaashi, satisfied with the response, guides Bokuto off his lap and allows him to pull his pants and underwear back up.

“Come on,” Akaashi calls, pulling the covers off for Bokuto to get under, “let’s take a nap.”

After Bokuto is redressed and his medicine his taken, Akaashi smiling at the fact he did it without being reminded, he slides under the covers. Akaashi slides in next to him, wrapping his arm around his stomach and hugging him.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto’s voice is serious, “thank you. I really appreciate you.”

“Hey, we talked about it before and you said it’d help. I want to be here for you, no matter what you need.”

Bokuto nods, eyes becoming heavy, “Still... Appreciate it...”

Akaashi smiles, planting a small kiss to the crown of Bokuto’s head, “Go to bed, we can talk more when you wake up.”

Bokuto doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly falling into a deep sleep in Akaashi’s warm embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i have a lot of request piling up and some were given before but i get more motivated for certain scenarios than others so don’t feel upset if i haven’t written yours yet!!
> 
> hope you enjoyed this chapter! i really look bokuaka’s dynamic and i thought this was the most canon way for a scenario like this to happen :-)
> 
> also, this is not bdsm! even though it was prediscussed and consensual i’m still considering it to be more of domestic discipline (bokuaka aren’t a couple in this so it’s really platonic more so)
> 
> also i finished this at like 3am and i’m on my phone so please excuse any typos, i can edit it when i wake up haha
> 
> anyway i’ve rambled enough, leave some requests!


	10. tsukishima.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tokyo training camp is here and it means one thing:
> 
> tsukishima is forced to interact with other teams and come to terms with one of his greatest insecurities.
> 
> ( feat. surprise spanker ;3c )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't proof read so i apologize for any typos or errors pls don't roast me too hard

Tsukishima didn’t understand why everyone was so invested in volleyball as much as they were. It seemed like all anyone cared about was the sport, putting sleep — and  _ schoolwork  _ it seemed, Tsukishima remembering Hinata and Kageyama practically failing their classes because they cared more about some  _ stupid  _ game — after. 

When he found out about the training camp in Tokyo, he wasn’t excited. He couldn’t even  _ pretend  _ to be enthusiastic about it, not when he didn’t see the point in wasting their time practicing against other teams that were meant to be their rivals. Not to mention, Tokyo was far, a good four hours from Miyagi, and Tsukishima really didn’t want to be stuck on a bus with his loud and obnoxious teammates. Though his saving grace came when he found out the annoying first-year duo would be arriving late, the two needed supplementary exams because of their  _ horrendous  _ grades and he doubted they would finish in time to make it to the camp at all. 

Right, the camp. It really made no sense whatsoever to Tsukishima and he would rather spend his time alone than with a group of people that made his skin crawl.

_ “Aw, c’mon Tsuki!” Yamaguchi had consoled when Tsukishima told him about his frustration, “I think you just need to be more friendly! Maybe if you actually talk to them, you’ll find yourself liking them more!” _

_ Tsukishima rolls his eyes at that, pulling his headphones over his ears in an attempt to ignore his friend, “I  _ won’t _ like them, they’re too loud. All they care about is volleyball.” _

The conversation ended after that, either Yamaguchi didn’t want to keep pushing or he simply couldn’t hear over the music, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about what Yamaguchi had said.

_ “Be more friendly.” _

It wasn’t  _ like  _ Tsukishima was an asshole on purpose, he just had a very low tolerance for annoying people and it seemed like every single person who wanted to talk to him — save for Yamaguchi — was just that.  _ Annoying _ . 

Tokyo was large, busy, and crowded, a stark difference from Miyagi, and Nekoma High was equally as large. It made sense, considering they were a powerhouse school, but Tsukishima still found himself a little overwhelmed at the feeling of culture shock.

He sets his bag down in the gymnasium, playing with his fingers in an attempt to calm his nerves, as he surveys all the teams there. They were outcasts, the only school not from Tokyo, and it was telling. 

While his teammates chose to talk loudly and excitedly, Nishinoya practically  _ bouncing  _ off the walls as he and Tanaka chatted with that one guy from Nekoma, Tsukishima stood off to the side. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t good ole four eyes,” Tsukishima turns and glares at the voice, huffing in annoyance, “why are you standing here alone? Don’t you want to join the rest of your team?”

Tsukishima pushes his glasses up with a glare, “Don’t you have anything better to do, Kuroo-san?”

“What? Am I not allowed to see my  _ lovely  _ kohai?” He slings his arm over Tsukishima’s shoulder, the boy resisting the urge to shove it off, “It’s been a while since our last meeting, glasses.”

“Why are you acting like we’re friends? Don’t you have better things to do? Like leaving me alone?”

Kuroo gasps dramatically, hand thumping down on his shoulder as he tuts, “Not a very polite way to be talking to your senpai, now  _ is  _ it, my kohai?”

This time, Tsukishima  _ does  _ knock his hand off of him, turning away with a sharp glare at the other teen’s words.

“I didn’t ask to talk to you in the first place, Kuroo-san, now if you’ll excuse me…”

Unlike Daichi or Sugawara, Kuroo doesn’t stop him, he just lets him walk away without trying to get Tsukishima to talk to him. That’s  _ one  _ thing he can appreciate about the Nekoma captain, he isn’t up his ass like his own teammates. Still, he finds himself annoyed with the entire conversation. Why did Kuroo even feel the need to confront him in the first place if all he was going to do was say something about his “attitude”, it was annoying. He decides to push it aside, the interaction becoming a distant memory as he turns his attention to the rest of his team getting together to start warming up for their first practice match: the first of many for a  _ very  _ long weekend, Tsukishima sighs. 

* * *

His annoyance doesn’t seem to disperse, especially not when Hinata and Kageyama barge in fashionably late after the rest of Karasuno had gotten their ass kicked by practically every team here. When Hinata asks him how things had been going, he brushes him off entirely, walking away without as much of a “hello”, and doesn’t even bother in engaging in a conversation with “The King of the Court”. 

Tsukishima doesn’t understand those two, how they can dedicate all their time to volleyball. They had just gotten here not even ten minutes ago and Hinata is already changed into his practice uniform, moving to grab a ball and tossing it to Kageyama — who  _ also  _ is dressed — so they can warm-up.

_ Do these two ever take a break? _

The remainder of the day’s matches go off without a hitch and although they lose,  _ again _ , Tsukishima doesn’t feel like he has to be involved as much, not when the two volleyball freaks are practically taking control of everything. Fine by Tsukishima, that just meant less work for him in the long run.

Finally, they finish for the day, and Tsukishima wastes no time in getting his stuff together so he can leave. He’s tired, his body is aching from the all-day matches, and all he wants is to take a hot bath and sleep. 

“Hey, Four-eyes!” Tsukishikma freezes, tightening his hold on his bag as he turns to see Kuroo staring at him, two other guys — he vaguely remembers hearing their names, he just knows they go to Fukurodani — standing behind him expectantly, “Come practice with us.”

Tsukishima glares, “No, I’m going to bed.”

He doesn’t understand why they’re still wanting to play, it’s not like they had been practicing all day, and weren’t they meant to be the competition? Why would Kuroo-san ask to practice  _ with  _ him and those two others from a different team?

“Bokuto-san, Akaashi-san, have you met Tsukki?”

Tsukishima lets out a huff at the nickname, not liking the fact that it’s coming from  _ Kuroo  _ of all people. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” The large one yells, patting — more like  _ slapping  _ — Tsukishima’s back, “You don’t want to practice with your super cool senpais?”

The smaller one sighs, “Bokuto-san, you’re scaring the kid.”

“Aww, Akaashi!” He pouts, suddenly looking for childish than Hinata, “You’re ruining my fun.”

The three turn back to Tsukishima expectantly, Tsukishima shaking his head and turning towards the door once more.

“Yeah, I’m going to pass.” 

He leaves after that, hearing Kuroo yell a “Damn Horned Owl Bastard!” followed by a faint thump as he heads out of the gymnasium and away from the three boys who are adamant on having him play with them. 

Tsukishima hates volleyball. 

* * *

Kuroo’s interest in glasses — Tsukishima, he reminds himself — increases as the training camp goes on. The first year is quiet like Kenma, but he also has no interest in volleyball whatsoever. He thought asking him to practice with him, Bokuto and Akaashi may help him open up, but four-eyes was just as distant. 

Not to mention, he was a brat. 

He had known the gangly kid was reserved and had little tolerance for his teammates — Shrimpy-chan comes to mind in an instant — but he hadn’t expected to have the kid outright ignore him, or be disrespectful either. 

His request wasn’t an empty invitation either, he wanted to help the boy actually  _ enjoy  _ volleyball and he figured that having him play with some pros (Bokuto’s words) would do the trick. Too bad the kid was not interested one bit, brushing the invite off and choosing to sleep instead.

Kuroo was going to get the kid to practice with him, have him enjoy volleyball, he was determined. 

Bokuto ends up getting Tsukishima to join them, coming up with some lame excuse that he’s the only one tall enough to block, and it works — Tsukishima stands beside Kuroo at the net and glares every time Bokuto hits a ball over, not wasting any time in boasting about “how he’s the best”. 

Kuroo can  _ see  _ the way Tsukishima bristles at that, grumbling in annoyance, and part of Kuroo is happy. The kid is  _ finally  _ getting involved in the game and showing an interest in volleyball.

“We’ll get the next one, yeah?” He reaches to ruffle Tuskishima’s hair only to have his hand slapped away, Kuroo going stiff and eyeing Bokuto and Akaashi warily. 

“Shut up, I don’t care.”

Kuroo’s kind demeanor shifts in an instant, turning to his “stern captain” mode as he claps a hand on Tuskishima’s shoulder, “I thought I already talked to you about your politeness, four-eyes?”

Tsukishima doesn’t shove his hand away, but he doesn’t apologize either.

“You’re the one who forced me to practice with you guys in the first place. You needed a “tall blocker” and wouldn’t leave me alone about this.”

The atmosphere in the gymnasium is dark, Bokuto and Akaashi going quiet as Kuroo and Tsukishima continue their standoff. (If Kuroo were to drop a pin right now, he would be able to hear it clear as day, that’s how silent the gym is.)

“You have a  _ serious  _ attitude problem, Tsukki.” 

This time, Tsukishima  _ does  _ shove his hand away, eyes narrowing and hand slapping Kuroo’s harshly, “ _ Don’t  _ call me Tsukki.”

Kuroo watches as the tall teen makes a move to leave, Kuroo not thinking twice before grabbing his wrist, tugging him towards him in an instant. 

“Let  _ go  _ of me. I’m leaving.”

Tsukishima tries to pull away but Kuroo just tightens his grip, pulling the boy along with him into the adjacent locker room, not before turning over his shoulder to yell at the other two who stand in shock.

“We’ll have to pick this back up later,” he confirms as he continues guiding Tsukishima away, “I need a little chat with glasses here.” 

He guides him away after that, steering him inside the adjacent locker room and shutting the door — locking it behind them.

Tsukishima yanks his hand away when the door locks, glaring at Kuroo with as much menace as he can manage.

“What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?”

Kuroo smiles, guiding Tsukishima to sit down before he bends to meet his eyes — damn this tall kid, what was the Karasuno gang  _ feeding  _ him.

“You have a serious attitude problem, Tsukishima. Not just with me, or Bokuto and Akaashi, but your entire team as well. I know you don’t like volleyball, I get it, but you can’t act like this anytime someone tries to talk to you.”

The teen is silent for a moment, blinking as he registers what Kuroo is telling him, before he snaps.

“Are you—You can’t talk to me like this! You are  _ not  _ my captain and I don’t really care that you’re my senpai either.”

Kuroo inhales sharply, tightening his grip on his shoulders in warning at the end of his statement, “I’m not your captain, you’re absolutely right.” He sits down beside Tsukishima as he continues, “But I  _ am  _ your senpai, whether you like it or not, and I’m going to help my  _ kohai  _ understand the basics of respect.” 

He’s done this before, with his own teammates, but never with someone from a different team — especially  _ not  _ with someone he’s only had a handful of conversations with. But Kuroo knows he needs to do this, to help Tuskishima realize that he can’t act like this anymore. 

“You push those away who care about you, including that little freckled friend of yours, and it isn’t healthy. You need to have a support system by your side, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima glares, “Why do you  _ care  _ so much?”

Kuroo smiles, “Because I can.” 

He grabs the teen’s wrist after that, guiding him to lay over his knees and holding him in place with his hand as his other one rests against his covered bottom, patting it gently.

“W-What are you—” 

He lets his hand fall, effectively cutting Tsukishima off, “I’m going to spank you, glasses.”

Kuroo begins spanking in rhythm after that, hand falling in quick succession as Tsukishima gasps, writhing over his lap in mute complaint. He expects to hear him argue, call him names or threaten him, but he remains silent, just hissing slightly and grumbling under his breath as he continues to let his hand rain down smacks against his shorts covered bottom.

“I mean what I said earlier,” he states, hand not pausing its pattern, “about having support.”

Tsukishima lifts his head from where it laid against Kuroo’s thigh, “I do,  _ fuck _ , have support.”

“Do you mean freckles?” He questions, hand moving to hit against the sensitive curve of his ass, the skin peeking out a faint pink, “Because it sure doesn’t seem like it with the way you treat him.”

“Yamaguchi is my friend, he’s used to it…” 

Kuroo tuts, letting his hand fall a few more times against the sensitive skin before he moves it back up, focusing his attention on the middle of his bottom instead.

“Yes, but he shouldn’t  _ have  _ to be used to it. You should be nicer, Tsukishima, to him and your entire team.”

Tsukishima squeaks, letting his hand fist tightly on Kuroo’s shorts, “I—I can’t  _ help  _ it. They just never shut up and I get so annoyed with them sometimes and it’s… I don’t even  _ care  _ about volleyball, you said so yourself!”

Kuroo hums at that, letting his hand rest against his bottom — he can feel the warmth radiating off it even through his shorts.

“So then why do you play?” 

He’s met with silence, Tsukishima shifting awkwardly over his lap as he buries his face further into Kuroo’s leg. 

Kuroo lets his hand slap down when there’s no response, “Well?”

“I play because Yamaguchi wants me to.” He sighs, “But… I don’t hate it, really.”

_ Yamaguchi? Oh, freckles.  _ Kuroo nods, patting his bottom encouragingly, “Go on.”

Tsukishima sniffles, Kuroo blinking — he didn’t realize the boy had even started crying — “I feel so inferior, to everyone else.” His voice is muffled from being pressed against Kuroo’s leg, but he can’t miss the sadness laced in his words, “Like Hinata and Kageyama have some freakish quick attack they do and everyone else is so motivated, dedicated to this, and I just… I’m the tall middle blocker. That’s all there is to me.”

Kuroo frowns, the hand that was once holding Tsukishima in place is now rubbing soothing circles on his spine instead in comfort.

“I get it. It’s hard to be motivated when you’re constantly put with those who excel at certain things or have more drive,” he thinks of Kenma, his friend being so disinterested at times yet so  _ talented,  _ much like Tsukishima, “but you’re more than just a middle blocker.”

“You have potential, Tsukishima, to be an amazing volleyball player.” He lets his hand rest on his bottom again, patting it a few times, “But your behavior about all of this, and your attitude, isn’t okay.” 

He lets his hand fall sharply, Tsukishima wincing as he buries his face again. 

Kuroo knows how hard it is to stay quiet when you’re getting spanked — Lord knows Lev is loud enough to wake a sleeping village — so he can’t help but admire Tsukishima’s stoicness during this. 

But…

He lifts his knees, tilting Tsukishima forward and ignoring his gasping as he lets his hand fall against his sit spots more prominently this time.

“You need to apologize, okay? To Bokuto and Akaashi for being rude when they were trying to invite you to join us.” A smack, “To freckles, Yamaguchi, for the way you’ve been treating him.” Another one on the other side, “And to your team entirely, Shrimpy-chan and Kageyama specifically.” Two more smacks fall against his sit spots, Tsukishima letting out a quiet whine at those, before he brings his knees down. 

A few more smacks land on his bottom before he stops, hand moving to rub against the sore backside instead. Tsukishima sniffs over his knee, shoulders shaking as he cries quietly, and Kuroo can’t help but guide the teenager up, pulling him into a tight hug and letting his hand stroke his spine as he continues to cry out.

“You’re okay, glasses, just let it out.”

Tsukishima sniffles again as he melts into the hug, the poor teen practically touch starved as he holds onto Kuroo like he’s going to leave at any moment. Kuroo continues to hold him, gentle caresses against his back and quiet reassurances as he slowly stops sniffling and wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

“You didn’t see that, okay?”

Kuroo laughs, “I was a little surprised to see you cry, didn’t think you had any emotions.”

“I’m not a robot…” He mumbles, reaching under his glasses to rub his eyes, “I just don’t like crying.”

“It’s okay, your secret is safe with me.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes at that, but Kuroo can’t miss the small smile the boy has. 

He smiles with him, ruffling his hair once more, “Come on, you should get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow.”

Kuroo guides the teen off his lap, helping him to a standing position, as he walks him back into the gymnasium. Bokuto and Akaashi are long gone, probably not wanting to stick around for the  _ talk  _ he and Tsukishima were having. 

“Kuroo-san?”

He turns to Tsukishima, the teenager blushing profusely as he bows, “I’m sorry, for earlier.”

Kuroo smiles, ruffling the boy’s hair when he’s standing again.

“You’re okay, glasses.”

_ You’re okay _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhm hi? 
> 
> i honestly wrote this chapter in one day because i have been wanting to write this one for AGES now and finally had the motivation to do it <3
> 
> this is honestly kind of long compared to my other chapters (and the spanking is kinda brief) but i really wanted to expand on tsukishima's emotions so i hope y'all enjoyed it :)
> 
> and i hope you enjoyed having kuroo spanking again hehe i honestly adore writing them and i love big brother kuroo to his kohai tsukki ;__; 
> 
> as always, leave kudos and comments! i plan on updating this fic more frequently (or as frequent as i can between this and my other stories) so stay tuned for that~~
> 
> have a good day/night
> 
> \- mase <3


	11. kuroo and kenma.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Kenma.”_  
>  He looks up, fork in his mouth and eyebrow raised.   
> “Why does Peach have broccoli in her paws?” 
> 
> kenma doesn't eat proper meals, kuroo makes sure that it doesn't happen again.

_ ”You need to finish everything off that plate before you leave the table and get dessert.” _

Kenma huffed, arms wrapping around his knees and poking nonchalantly at the broccoli Kuroo had previously dumped on his plate with a ruffle of his hair. 

He wasn’t even  _ hungry _ (the reminder of apple pie sitting in the fridge caused his stomach to growl ferociously) and the thought of taking another bite made Kenma’s stomach hurt. 

The few pieces of meat had been enough tie him over — Kuroo was quick to set more down, much to his dismay — and he was already such a naturally slow eater that he’d been sitting at his table for over an hour now. 

And Kuroo was already in the living room, the faint echoing of the television taunting Kenma as he slams his chopsticks down in fury. 

Why was he being punished like some little toddler? Kuroo was acting like a mother hen and it was making him irritable. 

“Kenma,” he hears his friend’s voice echo in, “have you finished your dinner yet?”

No, he hasn’t. He has a plate filled with broccoli and so much meat that he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

Except maybe, give it to the cat. 

Peach is a blind, three-legged cat his mom adopted when he was born and she ate literally everything. 

Including the broccoli and barbecue that remained untouched on Kenma’s plate. 

Once Peach finished her snack Kenma sets his plate in the sink with a satisfied smile before bounding towards the fridge and retrieving the pie set aside for later. 

It  _ is  _ later, after all. 

Kenma plops himself down on the couch next to Kuroo and digs into the pie, humming softly and haphazardly paying attention to whatever is playing on television. 

“You finish everything?”

He nods, taking another bite, “Yup. All gone.”

Kuroo nods and ruffles his hair, reclining against the sofa and letting his fingers play with Kenma’s hair as he finishes his pie. 

And for a moment, Kenma forgets about the fact he gave his dinner to the cat, simply savoring the pie and the fingers carding through his hair when suddenly, Kuroo’s hand freezes on top of his head. 

“Kenma.”

He looks up, fork in his mouth and eyebrow raised. 

“Why does Peach have broccoli in her paws?” 

Kenma takes another bite of the pie, ignoring the backstabbing cat, “Must have dropped a piece.”

“ _ Kenma _ .” And he winces slightly at the tone and how Kuroo drags out the second syllable, “Did you feed Peach your dinner?” 

When he doesn’t respond Kuroo sighs, hand previously in his hair moving to pull his pie away and setting it on the coffee table before patting his lap. 

“C’mon,” he states like casually and not like he’s about to turn him over his knee, “let’s get this over with.”

Kenma pouts, arms crossing over his chest with a lifted brow, “What? You’re gonna smack me because I didn’t eat my damn dinner?”

Kuroo sighs, reaching up to stroke his cheek, and then tugs him over his lap before Kenma can argue. 

“No,” he states firmly as he readjusts him, “I’m not going to  _ spank  _ you because you didn’t eat your dinner. While I’m upset about that, I’m more upset at the fact you  _ lied _ to me about it in an attempt to get your pie.” 

And Kenma pouts at that, body stiffening slightly when he feels Kuroo’s hand move to tug his pants down. 

“Kuro.” Kenma seethes when he feels his pants wrap around his knees, “You’re being unreasonable.”

Then his boxers go to meet them and Kenma kicks out, foot colliding sharply against Kuroo’s leg as he snarls. 

“Unreasonable? Kenma, what makes this unreasonable?” 

His hand smacks squarely against his ass after that, Kenma pressed firmly against Kuroo’s thigh and his hands frantically reaching against the couch for purchase as his leg kicks up. 

“Y-You’re smacking me for no reason!” 

And Kuroo snorts, Kenma growling into Kuroo’s pants as more harsh swats meet his ass and the tops of his thighs. 

“Let’s review. You fed your dinner to Peach and lied to me about it.” A harsh swat meets his thigh and he squeaks, “You decided to go against our agreement and ate pie for dinner when you  _ promised _ you’d eat actual food.” When Kuroo’s thigh lifts up, Kenma chokes on his spit as two more swats meet the sensitive part of his ass, “And decided to be a little  _ brat _ about this entire situation.”

_ A little brat. _ Kenma seethes at that, feet kicking against Kuroo’s leg — to no avail — and hands gripping against the pillow so tightly he’s scared he’ll tear a hole in it. 

“I’m not a brat, you’re just being annoying!” 

Kuroo sighs out as his hand smacks down again, his fingers long enough to cover both his cheeks in one blow and it makes Kenma buck up sharply. 

“Kenma, if you don’t stop squirming I’ll make you get the brush.” 

He swears under his breath at that but doesn’t kick anymore, letting his body deflate over Kuroo’s lap instead as the first tear falls from his eye. He already knows that his friend isn’t bluffing and he would like to be able to sit down the rest of the week.

“You’re tiny, Kenma, the smallest on the team and small for your height as well. When your mom asked me to watch you, I made a promise to her that I’d do just that.” Kenma hates how his heart clenches, “You have to eat, proper food and a good amount of it, not just two bites of pie that you didn’t have  _ permission to eat _ yet.” 

It was easy for Kuroo to say, he was tall and had muscles for days. Kenma was just naturally small, everything about him was. 

_ (He thinks about the times he, Kuroo, and Bokuto and Akaashi would go get dinner; Bokuto eating three plates and trying to shove some of his own dinner onto Kenma’s plate with a “Kenma, you’re scrawny! Eat some meat!”  _

_ And Kenma would roll his eyes, just giving Bokuto his own food and the owlish boy forgetting what he had been scolding Kenma for a moment later.) _

“It’s not a big deal...”

Kuroo’s hand meets his undercurve again and Kenma squeaks, hand smacking against the couch. 

“I’m not going to let you do this anymore. You have to stop this, this whole not eating nonsense.”

Part of Kenma knows he’s right, that he can’t keep doing this, but admitting that to Kuroo is not an option. Not when Kuroo was such a smug bastard who’d hang it over his head for the next month and a half. 

“Fine, I won’t do it anymore...” Kuroo hums, a silent invitation for him to continue, “I’ll actually eat my dinner, all of it, is that good enough for you, Kuro?”

And it is, because Kuroo tilts his leg back down so Kenma lays flat over his lap again and the hand that was previously raining down relentless swats on his ass is rubbing up and down his spine instead. 

“Good boy, Kenma.” Kuroo praises and Kenma pushes away the blush that spreads across his cheeks, “We’re not going to have this conversation again, right? Because if we do then it won’t be fun.”

Kenma nods against Kuroo’s pant leg, eyes burning with the unshed tears pricking the corner of his eyes and he sniffles. 

“‘kay, we won’t.”

He’s rewarded with Kuroo helping him back up off his leg into his boxers, resituating him on his lap so he’s sitting comfortably and handing him his pie from before. 

“You... You’re gonna let me finish?”

Kuroo pats his head, “You’ve been through a lot. We’ll just make sure you have a proper dinner tomorrow then.” Kenma sends him a look and Kuroo brings the fork to his mouth, “Eat your pie, kitten.” 

Kenma doesn’t argue, simply taking a bite from the offered fork as Kuroo’s fingers card through his hair. Kenma squirms slightly at the pressure on his bottom but he doesn’t let it bother him too much, far too content to care about anything else. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! 
> 
> i know this is so short gah but this is really inspired by the training camp arc and a mother hen kuroo making sure kenma ate so i just _had_ to write a little drabble about pudding head not getting his proper nutrients in smh
> 
> i have a few prompts lined up for this fic so please stay tuned for those and thanks for all the support!!
> 
> feel free to leave some more prompts and I'll get to them as soon as i finish my current list!! <3 i am a full-time student, however, so updates will be slow.


	12. hinata.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hinata can't sleep and let's his mind (and body) wander too much. good thing takeda-sensei is there to reel him back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone wanted takeda spanking hinata so they shall get just that!

Shoyou has to swallow back another sob, his throat feeling like he’s swallowed an entire bag of cotton balls and eyes burning with the unshed tears that well up. He always cried so easily, just the admission that he would be getting a spanking already has him sniffling and pleading, and with each harsh swat of the hand against his bare bottom he can’t help but warble out broken apologies.

“Why would you do something like that, little one?” The pet name making Shoyou shudder, shoulders shaking as he heaves out another broken sob, “That was so dangerous of you. What if you had gotten hurt?”

It wasn’t a big _deal_ , really! He just wanted to go for a run before bed and since everyone else was too tired to join him he decided to go alone. Daichi had scolded him about it before, many times, Sugawara-san too, but Shoyou was just so antsy and tired of standing around.

“We’re in Tokyo, Hinata-kun, it’s much bigger than Miyagi.” 

And it’s true, he wasn’t allowed to wander around by himself (Kageyama or Yamaguchi, even _Tsukishima_ , usually being forced to accompany him) he knew that yet being forced to stay in that inn for a second longer made his skin crawl and he just needed to get _out_.

“I didn’t wa-want to wake anyone up!” 

The past few days had been exhausting, between the constant practice matches with the Tokyo teams and the late arrival due to his supplementary exams; he and Kageyama had practically let the team down by coming in late, forcing the rest of them to work ten times harder in their absence and it made Shoyou feel so _bad_.

“You boys are meant to be asleep anyway. You’ve had a long day and have another day of training in the morning, little crow, you need your sleep.”

But Shoyou _doesn’t_ need to sleep, he needed to work harder and make up for those matches he missed, the matches that the rest of the team suffered through. If he hadn’t failed he could have been there, if he had been _smarter_ he could have helped them, if he—

Another sharp spank falls, this time against his thigh, and Shoyou lets out another loud sob. 

“I can hear you thinking, Hinata-kun.” Another sharp swat meets his opposite thigh and Shoyou can’t help but kick up weakly, burrowing his face further into Takeda-sensei’s pajama pants, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He shakes his head, tears staining the man’s pants as he grips so tightly and each swat that falls against his already _aching_ behind makes him sob even heavier. He’s so, so grateful to be in his and Coach Ukai’s room (Coach excusing himself the second Takeda-sensei guided him in with that disappointed look painted on his face, the very same one that haunted Shoyou’s nightmares) and not anywhere near where the rest of the team is because he would never be able to live that down. 

“We don’t have all night. It’s late and you need to get some sleep, Hinata, but I’m willing to stay here all night to figure out what’s going on.”

Takeda-sensei had always been so nice and patient, Shoyou feeling a sense of comfort whenever he was around their advisor, and even now, as he’s painting his ass a dark red, he has the same calm demeanor about him. 

It’s what makes this entire situation all that much harder; Shoyou can’t tell him the truth, he doesn’t want to risk disappointing Takeda-sensei even more than he already has and it makes him swallow back another sob.

“I-I let everyone d-down…” He warbles out, shoving his face as much as he can into the pajama pants, “‘nd I-I was so stupid and—”

He yelps when he feels a burst of pain on his ass, Takeda-sensei’s palm reawakening the sting, and another series of sobs pour out of him.

“You are _not_ stupid, Hinata.” His soothing voice contradicting the harsh flat of his hand, “I don’t want to hear you call yourself stupid ever again, do you understand me?”

Shoyou shakes his head, his fingers tangled in the fabric of Takeda’s pajamas, “B-But I am! I failed my test and then had to-had to take those stupid makeup classes and Tsukishima keeps reminding me of how st-stupid I am!” 

He sounds so pathetic, sobbing brokenly over sensei’s knee while he’s having his bare bottom spanked like a little kid, but everything is just too much right now. The reminder of how disappointed Takeda was when he caught him sneaking in, Tsukishima calling him dumb, the team’s frustration at the fact they kept losing their practice matches, Shoyou not being able to help them, and his brain is running a mile a minute trying to balance all these lingering insecurities and frustrations he holds on to as he squirms and whines from the harsh spanking.

“Grades don’t negate intelligence, little red.” Takeda replies casually, the hand not stopping its torturous relent on his ass, “You’re smart in your own way. You have kinesthetic intelligence, you recognize things about the other teams before anyone else does and you have such a good obtuse observation.”

Shoyou sniffles, his snot pouring out from his nose and he wipes it away with the back of his hand before it gets all over Takeda’s pajama pants (which are already stained with his tears) and he lifts his head slightly, taking a shuddering breath.

“Kin-Kinesthetic intelligence?” 

Takeda hums, his hand stopping its spanking and letting it rest against his lower back instead, “That’s right. Haven’t you noticed how you’re able to hit the ball without even needing to look at it? Or how you can let it land exactly where it needs to go without thinking about it too much?”

Shoyou had always been called weird for that, his “freak attack” being something of a coincidence and causing him to believe it was all because of Kageyama it was even remotely successful. But now… 

“You’re talented, Hinata. And while you may struggle academically I don’t think, even for a second, you’re stupid.”

 _I don’t think you’re stupid_. Is that all Shoyou needed to hear? To finally feel like he can breathe again, all the tightness and discomfort in his chest seemingly vanishing with the confession that he’s not a complete moron or hopeless.

“But,” ah, yes, they weren’t done yet. Shoyou should have _known_ better, “this does not excuse your actions.”

The hand falls again, the previous comfort turning into his source of pain once more as Takeda continues to rain relentless spanks on his bottom and thighs, “You scared me, Hinata, when I went to check on all of you and saw your cot empty. You didn’t tell anyone you left or where you were and everyone was asleep! That was very naughty of you, little crow.”

Shouyou nods aggressively, toes drumming against the cot and hands gripping tightly against Takeda’s pant leg for the thousandth time since they started. 

“Ow! I-I’m so-sorry — ow, please! — won’t d-do it again!” Shoyou warbles, fearing that he’ll never be able to sit _again_ after this is all over, “N-No more, pl-please!”

And then it’s all over, Shoyou being guided up and helped back into his boxers — wincing at the material rubbing against his aching bottom — before he’s moved to sit next to the man, Takeda hunching slightly to better meet Shoyou’s eyes with a soft smile.

“I know you won’t, Hinata, I know. You’re forgiven, but something like this _cannot_ happen again, okay? The consequences will be far worse if I catch you sneaking out alone at night to run again.”

Shoyou nods aggressively, “I promise, I promise!” 

That’s a good enough response, Shoyou realizes, as he’s quickly tugged into a tight hug and Takeda’s hand moves to run soothingly through his hair; sensei humming gently as the hand not in his hair strokes gently against his back. 

“Let’s get you to bed, little crow.” Takeda whispers, Shoyou not realizing he’s falling asleep on the man until he jolts at the voice, “You have a long day tomorrow and we need our little giant rested.”

Shoyou sniffles, slowly pulling his sweat pants back on and leaning against Takeda as he’s guided back to where the rest of the team is sleeping. He’s so tired, both mentally and physically, and even though his bottom is _burning_ — and it will be so painful trying to play tomorrow — he feels like he’s on cloud nine, all his previous jitters and worries washed away.

“Th-Thank you, sensei.” Shoyou hiccups out quietly when they make it back to the cots, reaching up to hug the man.

Takeda huffs a laugh, his own arms reaching to embrace Shoyou as well as he pats his head once more, “Of course, Hinata. Sleep well.”

And for once, he does. Shoyou falling into a peaceful and deep slumber the second his head meets the pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy!! i love takeda so much and this little drabble with him was such a joy to write!
> 
> please leave more requests below! i have several I'm getting to soon but I'm willing to add a few more if anyone wants to see something <3
> 
> \- kami


	13. tendou.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You really are a monster, Tendou.”_
> 
> tendou is jealous, goshiki says things he shouldn't, and ushijima is there to reel them all in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for [whimsi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whimsical_Ghosts/pseuds/Whimsical_Ghosts) aka my favorite shiratorizawa lover 
> 
> as always, this is non-sexual and non-romantic!

Satori had never been the best person to talk to, he was boisterous and said the first thing that popped into his head and it, more often than not, got him into trouble with his friends and family. He never had any ill intent, however, he could  _ see  _ how distraught his teammates became when he let his mouth move before his brain could process his thoughts and his guilt was almost always instantaneous. 

But that didn’t mean he didn’t  _ like  _ the casual teasing, ribbing his teammates and laughing along with them before Ushiwaka would send him that  _ look  _ and he had to stop. 

His favorite person to egg on was Goshiki, the little first-year was… something. A mouthful of braces and a fucked up haircut that Ushikwaka  _ claimed  _ “look good” and the boy practically followed their captain around like a lost puppy. Sure Satori  _ liked  _ the boy, but that didn’t mean he wanted the kid to come up to him every godforsaken second of the day to talk about Ushiwaka or the fact that he was going to become an ace like him. 

Jesus and everyone thought  _ Satori  _ never shut up?

It wasn’t just Satori who was the source of the teasing, Shirabu had done his fair share of getting onto the boy when he got into his overly excited moods, yet it seemed like it was only himself that got into trouble for it. Nevermind the fact that Shirabu had nearly made the kid cry once because of his bullying — yes, that was bullying, Satori was convinced that he was  _ not  _ a bully. 

“Tendou-senpai!” Speaking of… Satori turned towards the first-year, eyebrow cocked, “Can you block for me before practice?”

Satori shrugs, setting his phone down and ignoring the smile Ushiwaka sends him, before following Goshiki to the middle of the court. 

He’s reminded of how excitable the first-year is in an instant, Satori is already struggling to keep up with the boy and even his “guess blocks” are getting a little shaky every time Goshiki sends him a ball. 

They still have to go through an entire practice after this but Goshiki is showing no signs of stopping anytime soon and Satori leans against the net to look at him, the tape around his fingers already starting to become unraveled from sweat.

“Kid, we have practice soon, we should call it quits.” 

Goshiki’s lip quivers slightly, a flash of silver from his braces peeking out, “But I need to fix my serve, senpai, I’ll never be as good as Ushijima-senpai if I can’t get it!”

Satori is tall, he had been teased for his lanky height and towering over nearly everyone on the team, so it’s only natural for him to have to crane his neck down to better meet Goshiki’s eyes.

“Your spikes are fine, I don’t see why you’re spending so much time on them when you  _ should  _ be worrying about other things like those bangs of yours or your  _ jump  _ serve that fails a majority of the time.”

The air clicks on and the gym is silent, far too silent considering their team had been yelled at for being too loud by coach, and Satori glances around to meet Ushiwaka’s stern gaze on him. 

“Tendou,” he can hear the captain scolding already and he turns with a groan, “that’s enough.”

Satori rolls his eyes, “What? I’m just messing around with bangs over here, Ushiwaka, no need to get so defensive over your little pup.”

Goshiki glances at Ushiwaka for a moment, obviously conflicted on what to do. 

“Go ahead and cry to Ushiwaka, Lil’ Bowl Cut, he’ll tell you the  _ same  _ thing I am.”

He’s met with a huff, a meek reply of, “Ushijima-senpai thinks my bangs are cool…” and Satori can’t help but groan yet again. 

Damn was Ushiwaka all this kid ever  _ talked  _ about? 

“ _ Senpai _ thinks farming is cool, you can’t trust him for anything.”

Satori ignores the way Ushiwaka clears his throat, leaning in even closer to Goshiki and smiling in his face.

“Listen,  _ Bowl Cut Brat,  _ you’re young, too young, actually, and you follow Ushiwaka around like he paved the ground you walk on.”

Goshiki glares back, his typical cutesy demeanor replaced with anger as he reaches up to better meet Satori’s eyes, “What is your problem? Why are you talking to me like I’m some child!?”

“Because you  _ are  _ a child, I don’t think you realize this. You’ve gotten too cocky, Goshiki-kun, and you need to learn when to stop.”

Satori liked Goshiki, he really did. From the second the boy had joined the team, Satori found himself watching him more than any of his other teammates; whether it be because he felt the strong need to protect him, a nurturing instinct, or because of the fact that he was one of the few people who didn’t treat him like some kind of freak or monster. 

The rest of Shiratorizawa had been kind to him as well, he and Ushiwaka were extremely close, after all, but Satori just found himself enjoying the company of his little first year — he felt almost like an older brother.

But there was a strong sense of jealousy that oozed through Satori, the fact that the kid seemed to only care about Ushiwaka. 

Satori was jealous, somewhat. He had been the one to introduce Tsutomu to everyone on the team and get him excited about playing yet the second Ushiwaka walked in the boy seemed to only want to pay attention to their “great captain”.

So he really couldn’t help but get irritated when, during his  _ own time  _ practicing with his first year, he just had to bring up Ushiwaka.

“Why are you being so mean to me, Tendou-senpai?”

Satori doesn’t register the words leaving his mouth until they’re already out in the air, Ushiwaka’s hand clamping down harshly on his shoulder and his eyes moving to see the  _ hurt  _ in Goshiki’s face. 

_ “You’re so fucking stupid.” _

He’s not, Satori knows the kid isn’t stupid — despite his inability to differentiate insults from compliments — but he can’t even correct himself at this point or backtrack; it’s already out in the open for everyone to hear.

“You really are a monster, Tendou.”

If it weren’t for Semi dragging Goshiki away and the ever-hardening grip Ushiwaka has on his shoulder, Satori is certain he would have lunged at Goshiki.

Satori may have gone too far but he draws the line at being called…  _ that _ , especially from someone who he trusted and likes. 

“Let’s go,” Ushikwaka pulls Satori from his frustrating mindset, “we should talk some.”

“Isn’t practice about to begin?”

He glances over to coach, Shirabu and Semi assuring that they’ll be the ones to take care of things and a petulantly pouting Goshiki shooting glares towards Satori as Ushiwaka guides him outside the gym and towards their club room.

(And if Satori had lingered a moment longer, he would have seen the way Shirabu popped Goshiki upside the head before getting their practice started.)

* * *

Satori is a little, well, scared. Ushiwaka is quiet and although that’s normal, he can sense the irritation radiating off of him as he  _ drags  _ Satori alongside him.

“Y’know, if you wanted to fool around before practice all you had to do was ask, Ushiwaka~” Satori teases, hoping to ease the obvious tension.

It doesn’t, if anything it just makes things worse; Ushiwaka deciding to  _ grab  _ Satori instead and throw him over his shoulder with a grunt, Satori letting out a sound resembling some kind of pig as he’s carried towards the clubroom.

“Hey! My legs work, y’know!”

Ushiwaka readjusts his hold on him, hand moving to rest against his exposed legs, “I had a feeling you would try to do something foolish if you were walking. This is my way of keeping you in control, Tendou.”

And while normally Satori wouldn’t mind being carried like this, he can tell that he’s  _ not  _ being led away to have any sort of fun.

(Not when he’s been in a situation familiar to this one before... )

They finally make it to the club room and he’s set down, Ushijima locking the door in place behind them before gesturing towards the bench that lay in the center of the room. 

“Sit,” he instructs when Satori doesn’t budge from where he’s standing, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, “ _ Tendou _ .”

“Okay, okay!” And he sits, but not because the look Ushijima sends him makes his skin crawl and palms sweat, but because his legs  _ are  _ kind of tired and the bench does look very inviting. 

Okay, that’s a lie, he’s scared shitless. 

“Why did you say those things to Goshiki-kun?”

Satori brings his chin to rest on his palms, eyeing the captain with an audible sigh, “He’s a little irritating sometimes, don’t you agree?”

“No, I do not.”

Ushijima was always so… gruff, Satori notes. He can’t think of a single conversation he’s had with his captain that was lively, his typical banter and chatter being the only reason the conversation progresses and Ushijima providing one or two little anecdotes every now and then. 

“It’s because you spoil him, Ushiwaka.” The way Ushijima’s brows furrow makes Satori startle a bit but he continues, “You keep praising him and saying how he’ll replace you when you leave. Don’t you think you’re giving him a big head? I don’t think his bangs will be able to cover them anymore pretty soon.”

What Ushijima lacks in conversation, he makes up for in facial expressions. Every word that leaves Satori’s mouth is met with a scowl, a raised eyebrow, a twitch or pulse in his forehead, and he can’t even finish his spiel before Ushijima’s heavy hand claps down on his shoulder once more.

“You’re being cruel, Tendou. You know that Goshiki is self-conscious about those bangs of his.”

And fucking  _ Christ  _ how oblivious could Ushijima  _ be _ !?

“Forget about the damn bangs, Ushiwaka! The kid is an annoying little brat and I’m tired of hearing him run his damn mouth day in and day out!”

He feels like Shirabu has possessed him at this point, the other third-year’s distaste for their outside hitter being extremely evident. Satori was typically the one to swoop in and cut him off, not wanting Goshiki to get so upset from the teasing taunts that he  _ knows  _ Shirabu doesn’t really mean. 

“I see,” Satori looks up at that, “you’re jealous.”

Okay, maybe he isn’t as oblivious as Satori originally thought. 

“What are you talking about, I’m not jealous…”

Ushiwaka quirks his eyebrow and Satori can’t help but squirm slightly on the bench, “He does talk about me a lot, I have realized that, but he  _ does _ like you, Satori.”

_ Satori _ . 

Shit, he was being serious now. 

“What does this have to do with anything? Didn’t you drag me in here to scold me for yelling at the kid?”

The hand moves from his shoulder to rest on his knee and Satori tenses, looking away from Ushijima’s naturally intimidating stare.

“Yes, I did, but I imagine there’s a reasoning behind it. You like Goshiki-kun, I’ve seen as much from our practices.” The hand on his thigh tightens and Satori winces, “So I know that your outburst is because of jealousy. He had mentioned me again when you started being cruel.”

Satori feels so childish like this, being scolded by his captain — hell his  _ friend  _ — for being a little baby all because he felt jealous. 

“Why does he only talk about you!?”

He doesn’t realize he’s whined until Ushijima chuckles, Satori’s face turning the same red as his hair as he huffs for the umpteenth time that day.

“You should talk to him, Satori. I’m sure he does not do it on purpose.”

Satori can’t help but slump in on himself, “Easy for you to say… I’m not the best at confrontation, Ushiwaka.”

He feels his knee being squeezed and he looks up slowly, noting the strange look on his friend’s face that he’s  _ assuming  _ to be a smile (Ushiwaka really needed to practice that one) and he raises his eyebrow.

“We can go together, after we finish here.”

And in a split second of hope, Satori nearly forgot about the entire reason he was led (read  _ carried _ ) here. Yeah, that was a thing… 

This wasn’t the first time Satori had been in this position, his boisterous attitude getting him in more trouble than he would have liked, and with the added egging on by Shirabu and Semi, it only warranted trouble. But Satori wasn’t a bad person, not by any means, he just tended to lose his brain-to-mouth filter and spewed nonsense time and time again, much like today.

“Do we have to, Ushiwaka?” Satori sighs, flopping over and letting his cheek rest against the other boy’s hand, pouting up at him, “Goshiki is just as much to blame for all of this!”

His head is guided up, much to Satori’s dismay, and Ushijima shakes his head. 

“He’ll be receiving his comeuppance after practice, Satori.” Ushijima sits next to him, rolling his shoulders back, “You can deal with yours now.”

Satori is glad that he’s not the only one with his ass on the line, literally, but that didn’t mean he wanted to get in trouble either! Not when he would have to get through the rest of practice with a burning ass and the teasing remarks of his friends. Assholes, the lot of them!

“Come on now, Satori, we need to get back to practice soon.” He states, patting his lap and lifting a brow, “Don’t make this harder on yourself.”

Begrudgingly, he obliges, not because he’s willing to accept this punishment but because he  _ knows  _ Ushijima isn’t above manhandling him into place and he would like to hold onto the last little bit of dignity he has. Ushjima reaches and tugs his shorts down before Satori can argue, his complaint lost on the tip of his tongue when a harsh smack falls and echoes in the club room. Boxers are useless, the pain amplified without the added layer of protection from his shorts and the bit of skin that peeks out from his underpants are the first target Ushijima attacks. 

“Fighting with your teammates is unacceptable, Satori.” Ushijima scolds, letting swat after swat fall against his sit spots and Satori can only let out low whines, teeth gritted, “Especially with one that is younger and looks up to you.”

Satori groans at that, the embarrassment creeping up on him and stinging far worse than the swats attacking his thighs (and honestly can Ushiwaka  _ please  _ move back to his ass or something!? He’s never gonna sit again at this rate) 

“Yeah, I get it. I was being dumb…” 

The sharp smack on his ass in reply isn’t unexpected, Satori already knowing that he’ll be reprimanded for the “self-deprecation”, but this entire issue was caused by Satori being dumb so he can’t really fault himself for that quip. 

“Don’t call yourself dumb, Satori, you are far from it.” Ushijima’s hand moving back to his bottom, finally, and falling faster and harder than before, “You just made a mistake and acted immaturely.” 

He’s quick to nod at that, his face buried into Ushijima’s pant leg and the first or many tears falling from his eyes.

“Y-Yeah, you’re right…”

Ushijima lets out a hum, fingers reaching to tug the last layer of protection Satori has down to his knees and he’s embarrassed at the sound he lets out when Ushijima’s hand meets his bare skin.

“I’m aware,” he states firmly, the hand falling quickly and sharply, “you would do yourself well to not insult your intelligence again. I am not opposed to reopening this conversation after practice.”

Satori shakes his head aggressively, gripping Ushijima’s pant leg tightly as more spanks begin to fall on his ass. He can't see it, but he already knows it’s a deep red at this point and the thought of practicing after this just makes more tears well up in his eyes. 

“I won’t! Jesus, Ushiwaka, I promise!”

Ushijima continues spanking in earnest, hand not slowing for even a second and Satori nearly chokes on his own spit as he’s elevated slightly and his more prominent sit spots are attacked. 

“I’m disappointed, Tendou. You typically don’t let the little things get to you, even during matches, yet you chose to lash out over a disagreement?”

_ “You really are a monster, Tendou.” _

“He… He called me a monster.”

The hand pauses and Satori sniffles when he feels it rubbing against his back, stiffening slightly.

“Who did?”

Satori cranes his neck back, embarrassed by the snot dripping down his face and the tears in his eyes as he meets Ushijima’s concerned face.

“Goshiki.”

The concern instantly morphs into frustration, Ushijima’s brows furrowing in and his hand pausing its gentle rubbing on his spine.

It was no secret to anyone that Satori despised being called that, far too used to the teasing insult when he was in elementary school and pretty much shamed for his looks, so hering it again was a low blow. “Guess Monster” was one thing, the fact that his inept skill in recognizing where a ball would be sent used to his advantage in blocking with no hesitation, but monster in any other term was like a blunt force stab to his heart.

Especially coming from someone like Goshiki.

“He called you a monster?”

Satori just nods, shoulders slumping and face turning back to the front, not wanting Ushijima to see him begin to cry over such a stupid little name.

“Fighting… Fighting isn’t okay, no matter what, Satori.” Ushijima pats his back again, “But neither is insults and I won’t stand for that. Something like this can not,  _ will not _ , happen again.”

The hand moves back to his ass and Satori whines when a flurry of smacks fall again, Satori unable to keep his leg from twitching and the slight kick.

“I will be speaking to Goshiki when we finish here,” Ushijima states, letting his hand fall a few more times before resting it against his burning ass, “and then the two of you will talk after practice. But if something like this ever happens again, I will not be as nice, understood?”

Satori nods, “Yes, I understand!” 

Three more spanks and it’s all over, Satori lying limply over Ushijima’s lap as the same hand causing his pain earlier rubs up and down his back gently.

Ushijima was so… brute, stiff, yet the hand on his back feels so calming and he can’t help but soak in the gentle affection like a wrung-out sponge. 

Satori cries out a bit longer, his sobs slowly dissolving and petering out into quiet sniffles and that’s when he’s guided up and standing in between Ushijima’s legs, the grip on his chin forcing him to meet the captain’s eyes.

“You are a good person, Satori. I enjoy having you playing with me.” Satori hates the way his eyes begin to water again at that, “And I hope that you know that you are not a monster, Goshiki was just angry.”

He nods, lifting his shoulder to wipe his stray tears, “I know, and I shouldn’t have snapped the way I did.”

Ushjima nods, letting go of his chin and clearing his throat, “Redress yourself, we need to get to practice and I need to talk with Goshiki.”

Satori winces slightly, knowing that the first-year was not going to have a good time, his own ass aching as he tugs his boxers and shorts back into place and grimaces at the bit of red that peeks out from under his shorts.

“Aw, Ushiwaka! Now everyone is gonna know!”

Ushijima huffs a laugh, patting Satori’s bottom once more, “No one will say anything, I assure you.” He continues to lament anyway, latching onto Ushijima the entire way back to the gym and huffing when Semi sends him a lifted brow and Shirabu gives him a knowing look. 

Goshiki peeks out from behind Semi, brows furrowed and looking like he wants to say something but letting out a surprised noise when Ushijima grabs his hand.

“Let’s talk, Goshiki.”

And Satori sends him a soft reassuring smile, noting the way the first-year’s cheeks redden as he reaches to rub his bottom. 

* * *

“Tendou-senpai!” Satori snaps his head around to see Goshiki rushing towards him, his kohai’s bangs plastered against his forehead from sweat and the tear stains on his face make him chuckle lighty. Ushijima appears from behind him, sending Satori a look before deciding to give the two some privacy. 

Goshiki bows so low that his head nearly hits the ground, Satori reaches to tug the boy up and hug him, running his hand through his bangs to fluff them up again as he smiles.

“I don’t think you’re a monster, senpai! That was mean of me and-and I am so sorry for saying that!” 

Satori kisses his forehead, “I know, punk, I forgive you. I’m sorry for being such an ass, I don’t think you’re annoying or stupid.”

Goshiki nods, hugging Satori even tighter, “I know you don’t! It’s because I kept talking about Ushijima-senpai and I know you got jealous!” 

He can’t help but squawk at that, hand reaching to flick against his kohai’s forehead as he scowls, “You really are a bowl-cut brat…”

“It’s okay, senpai, I’ll be sure to talk about you just as much!” 

Satori smiles at that, slinging his arm around his shoulder and guiding him towards the exit of the gym.

“How would my favorite kohai feel about getting some coffee with his favorite senpai, hmm? I’ll even pay!”

Goshiki’s eyes light up, the boy nodding, “Okay!” He pauses, lip quirking up for a moment, “But I don’t see Ushijima-senpai anywhere?”

The noise Goshiki makes is enough of a reward for Satori, hand moving from where it swatted boy’s bottom back to around his shoulder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry, goshiki will be getting his actual comeuppance in about a week or two <3 i just couldn't end this chapter without the reassurance from the two babies and didn't want to make this super lengthy!
> 
> this isn't meant to be romantic by any means but you can interpret goshiki and tendou's relationship however you want (also tendou and ushjima's tbh)
> 
> please leave some requests as well! i have several piling up that i am getting to but am always willing to see what you guys are wanting as well!  
> I'm hoping to get a set updating schedule to around every 2 weeks or so please look forward to that!
> 
> have a nice day/night and thanks for the support!!
> 
> -kami


	14. goshiki.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation of the last chapter with goshiki's punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: please read the chapter prior before this one! it won't make much sense if you haven't already read "tendou."
> 
> otherwise, enjoy!  
> and as always: nothing is sexual or romantic!

Tsutomu knew that his fate was inevitable, from the second he made that retort and called Tendou a monster. Shirabu was the one to make it clear to him, the older boy rubbing where he smacked Tsutomu’s head and sending him a look that was filled with something akin to pity.

“Senpai is going to talk to you when he finishes with Tendou,” Shirabu states blandly, looking towards the door the two just left through, “and it won’t be fun. Just wanted to prepare you, I guess, so you don’t freak-out in front of him.”

Shirabu leaves him alone after that, Tsutomu’s eyes already watering in a mix of fear and guilt and he clings onto Semi’s outstretched hand as the third-year ruffles his hair, smiling gently.

“Don’t listen to him, just worry about practice for right now, okay?” 

And Tsutomu tries to, he really does, but he keeps thinking about Tendou’s face when he said it and then his face when he was being dragged out by Ushijima and now Shirabu’s comment is playing on a loop in his head and he can’t even focus on the practice. Semi tries to reassure him again but Tsutomu just feels so scared, so upset, like Ushijima and Tendou-senpai are going to hate him now. 

“Goshiki-kun.” Semi’s gentle voice pulling him from his internal turmoil, “Relax, okay? You aren’t going to die and no one is mad at you.”

He wants to argue that it isn’t true but he doesn’t get the chance to, Semi tugging him by the wrist to the court and pointing to the volleyball rack with a lifted brow.

“Practice. Now. Come on.”

Practice goes on for what feels like hours, Tsutomu barely paying attention and making more mistakes than usual. No one bothers to scold them, not even coach, and it only adds on to the terrible feeling he has weighing down on his chest. 

He tries to believe what Semi told him, that no one is mad and everything will be okay but until he sees it for himself, he’s going to assume the worst.

Then the door opens and Tendou-senpai walks in, eyes red-rimmed and hand rubbing against his ass and Tsutomu nearly astral projects when Ushijima-senpai calls for him. He doesn’t bother arguing or delaying it, simply pulling away from where Semi is basically  _ holding  _ him and running after Ushijima-senpai.

“S-Senpai, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to—I shouldn’t have—”

Ushijima cuts him off, letting his hand rest against his shoulder and squeezing it ever-so-slightly, “No talking, just walk with me.”

Tsutomu doesn’t argue, just shutting his mouth and allowing himself to be dragged out of the gym and towards wherever Ushijima-senpai is taking him instead. 

They arrive at the club room and Ushijima shuts the door behind them, not letting go of his wrist, before guiding them to the bench adjacent to the door and gesturing for Tsutomu to sit down beside him.

It shouldn’t be as intimidating as it is, Tsutomu has spent time alone with the captain before and he usually isn’t so scared, but right now? He’s  _ terrified. _

“Tell me, Goshiki-kun, what happened earlier?”

Tsutomu slumps beside Ushijima, unable to make eye-contact with the rather intimidating captain and not entirely sure  _ where  _ to start. Sure he may have said some things he shouldn’t have but Tendou-senpai started it all and—

“Goshiki.”

Right, an explanation.

“Tendou started it,” Goshiki whines out before he can think twice, hand moving to clap over his mouth as his cheeks and tips of his ears tinge red, “I mean—Well, he was the one who caused this whole thing.”

Ushijima raises an eyebrow, heavy hand resting against Tsutomu’s thigh and he has to swallow back a scream, “Continue.”

Tsutomu swallows thickly, hating how he’s already shaking, “He… He kept insulting me and my skills and then he started saying mean things about you and before I knew it he called me stupid.”

He glances up to Ushijima, the captain setting his jaw and tightening his grip on Tsutomu’s leg and this time he  _ does  _ let out a squeak, “You’re neglecting to tell me something, Goshiki.” 

“I, uh, may or may not have called him a monster as well?”

Tsutomu winces when the hand leaves his leg, moving to grab his chin and forcing him to actually make eye-contact with Ushijima since they first entered the club room. 

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

He can’t look away, as much as he wants to, and being forced to meet the disappointed eyes of his literal  _ idol  _ only makes the harboring guilt increase ten-fold. Sure Tendou started all of this, but Tsutomu had been quick to make an insult as well, calling his senpai a name that he  _ knew  _ made the other insecure and he hadn’t even shown any remorse about it. 

“I didn’t  _ mean  _ to, senpai! He called me stupid and-and I just snapped!”

Ushijima hums at that, his hand tightening slightly more when Tsutomu attempts to avert his gaze, “Whether you meant to or not, you still said it. I understand Tendou was initiating things but you should have come to me rather than engage, yes? This could have been avoided, Goshiki-kun. I’m disappointed in you.”

_ I’m disappointed in you _ .  _ Disappointed _ . The sentence rang in Tsutomu’s head like a mantra, the truth behind his senpai’s words pulling a sniffle from him, a tear rolling down his cheek as he scrunched his eyes closed as tight as he could. He can’t cry in front of Ushijima-senpai, he  _ won’t  _ cry in front of him.

“Goshiki-kun, why are you crying?”

Tsutomu opens his eyes, the tears only renewing at the look his senpai has. It isn’t disappointment or anger like he had originally expected, instead, it’s hurt, concern.

“I’m sorry I let you down, senpai!” Tsutomu croaks out, unable to stop the sob and the fresh tears that pour from his eyes, this time with no constraint.

Despite how large and rough Ushijima’s hands are, they rest against Tsutomu’s cheek so gently, his thumb reaching to wipe a tear that falls against his cheek.

“You didn’t let me down, Goshiki. I am not mad or upset with you, just a little upset with your actions. You’re a good person, a good teammate, and teasing is not okay.” 

Tsutomu nods against Ushijima’s hand, letting out a shaky cough as he reaches to wipe away his tears.

He has to take a moment to think about all the times someone on the team got caught teasing. Shirabu-senpai comes to mind in an instant, the older boy being dragged out after one too many insults only to come back looking the exact way Tendou-senpai had today, eyes red and rubbing his bottom as he shifted uncomfortably. And while Tsutomu had never been on the receiving end of one of these conversations, he had a good enough observation to understand what these exact conversations entailed. 

_ “Shirabu-senpai, are you okay? Don’t your legs hurt? You should sit down!”  _

_ The second-year grimaces at the idea, reaching back to rub his bottom solemnly and sending a pout to Ushijima-senpai before shaking his head. _

_ “I’m good, trust me.” _

“I understand, senpai, and I really… I really am sorry.”

Ushijima hums, smiling gently as he pats his cheek, “I appreciate that, but it’s not me you have to apologize to, yes?”

Tsutomu nods aggressively, “Yes, yes, of course! I’ll apologize to Tendou-senpai, I promise!”

“I’m glad to hear that, you can apologize after your spanking.”

Despite the fact Tsutomu knew it was coming, he can’t help but whine out when he hears it. He quickly shakes his head, pouting so much he probably resembles a kicked puppy.

“Senpai, do we have to?”

He’s met with a nod, the comforting hand against his cheek moving to pat his own thighs, a silent instruction that Tsutomu is frankly too scared to follow. 

“As I said, while you didn’t start this you  _ did  _ engage rather than coming to me.” Ushijima reminds him and Tsutomu puffs his cheeks, “And while I appreciate the fact that you were defending me, I don’t stand for bullying of any sort on this team and I’m going to deal with it the same way I do everyone else. Now, come on, let’s get this over with.”

It’s easier said than done to just climb over your captain’s lap to get your bottom smacked like a little toddler who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar, but Tsutomu has already let down Ushijima so many times today that he really doesn’t want to make things worse for him. So he allows himself to be guided over, squeaking when his chest meets broad thighs and biting the inside of his cheek with nervous anticipation. 

He can’t help but squeal when he feels thick fingers reaching to tug his shorts down, the cold breeze of the gym attacking his legs, and even though his underwear is still up, and he hopes they stay up, he already squirms when the first smack falls. 

“Ow, senpai!” Tsutomu cries out, not above complaining even after only one swat, “That hurts!”

He’s met with a low chuckle, the hand continuing to fall and Tsutomu letting his leg kick weakly, “I am aware, this is meant to be a deterrent to keep you from doing something like this again.”

Tsutomu should have expected the pain, to be honest, Ushijima was one of the top aces in Japan, and just watching him spike was enough to make his skin crawl. But now he’s in this position and he’s getting a taste of how hard his captain can hit and the strength behind each blow and it  _ hurts _ .

“If there is an issue on the team, between you and anyone else, don’t interact.” Tsutomu writhes as more swats fall, the pace relentless and never-ending and he’s honest to God positive he’ll never sit again, “Don’t let the insults and remarks from your teammates cause you to react in the way you did.”

He nods aggressively, reaching to wipe his eyes with the back of his hands, “I-I’ll come to you, promise. I won’t let it g-get to me anymore!”

The entirety of this fight was unnecessary, to be quite honest, and Tsutomu wasn’t entirely sure what caused Tendou to snap the way he did. Maybe it was because he wanted extra practice? Or because he wasn’t doing well enough? Or because—

“Tendou cares about you, Goshiki-kun, I hope you know that.” 

Tsutomu cranes his neck at the unexpected confession, sending his captain a raised brow in response.

“Doesn’t seem like it, considering he was calling me names…”

The swat on his thigh makes him yelp, eyebrow falling, and hands fisting tighter against Ushijima’s pant leg. 

“He was, senpai!” He sounds so childish, really, but he isn’t entirely sure why he’s being reprimanded for the truth. 

“When have I ever lied to you, Tsutomu?” 

And when he thinks about it, Ushjima never has. The captain was so blunt, never beating around the bush, and when it came to matters involving the team, he knows that this isn’t something that he would lie about. 

“Never…”

“Exactly.” the hand moving back to his bottom and falling back to the same stingy pattern from before, “Do you have an idea on why Tendou may have felt the way he did? Something you might have said that could have caused this?”

To be fair, the insults didn’t begin until Tsutomu had started bringing up Ushijima-senpai, but that didn’t entirely explain why… 

_ “You know, Tsu-Tsu, I like you. You’re fun to be around.” _

_ Tsutomu laughed at his senpai, taking a swig from his bottle as the two took a break from their extra practice, “You’re fun too, senpai. I like hanging out with you.” _

_ The gym is silent, the two boys drinking from their water bottles and taking the time to collect their breath. _

_ “Thank you,” Tendou breaks the silence, reaching to rub Tsutomu’s head, “for not treating me like some… monster or whatever.” _

_ He lets his cheeks puff up “What do you mean?” _

_ Tendou just pats his head, “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get back to practicing, yeah? You need to become our next ace!” _

“-shiki? I hope you're not drifting off.”

Tsutomu jolts at the smack, sniffling gently, “Was senpai jealous?”

“I wouldn’t say jealous,” Ushijima responds, “more so upset.”

It made sense, the fact that he had asked Tendou to practice with him, the two spending all this time together and becoming closer only for Tsutomu to talk about Ushijima-senpai the whole time… Gosh, that really  _ was _ annoying. 

“I didn’t… I mean I shouldn’t have….” 

Ushijima pats his lower back firmly, but Tsutomu recognizes it as a means of comfort, “It’s fine now, Goshiki. You just need to talk to Tendou about all of this, okay?”

“O-Of course!” He stiffens when the hand against his back moves back to his stinging bottom, the spanking picking back up.

“Good, let’s finish up then.”

Tsutomu nearly screams as he’s lifted slightly, the leg he’s balanced on raising him up and making his bottom more presentable as a flurry of harsh smacks attack his sit spots and thighs. The position is horrid, the sting far worse against the bare skin that peeks out from his underwear, and he hopes — he honestly  _ prays  _ — that he never has to experience something like this ever again. 

“I hope something like this never happens again, Tsutomu, because I do not tolerate bullying.” Ushijima scolds, “And I do not like repeating these types of conversations, understood? I will be far less understanding if you choose to insult another teammate again, no matter the circumstances.” 

He sobs out, lying limply over Ushijima lap as the last few smacks fall, his bottom surely a deep red at this point, before the elevated leg drops back down and there’s a gentle hand stroking down his spine. 

“We’re done here, Goshiki, you can let it out.”

Tsutomu has never cried more in his life than in this moment, tears surely staining the older boy’s pants and throat hoarse from the sobbing, but he can’t help but feel so much better than he did before.

“How are you feeling?” Ushijima asks after Tsutomu’s sobs turn into sniffles, slight hiccups in between.

His voice is so groggy when he responds with an “I’m fine”, Ushijima guiding him off of his lap and reaching for the bottle of water resting on the floor next to the bench.

“Here, drink this. You’re dehydrated.” 

Tsutomu grabs the bottle and gulps half of it down in a single breath, cheeks tingeing red at the smile Ushijima sends him before he finishes the remainder of it. When the bottle is taken from him, Tsutomu moves to pull his shorts back into place, wincing at the contact. 

“Senpai, your hand hurts.” Tsutomu pouts, moving to cling onto the captain like a succubus, arms wrapping around him and forcing the older boy into a hug.

Ushijima grunts, taken by surprise, but Tsutomu only relaxes more when the broad arms reciprocate the affection and wrap around him, a hand rubbing down his back.

They stand in silence a moment longer, Tsutomu too busy soaking up the comfort and Ushijima not bothering to pull away, before he clears his throat.

“We need to head back.” The arms unwrapping and moving to rest on his shoulder, “But we can talk some more after practice, and after you talk with Tendou, okay?”

Tsutomu nods, letting the captain lead him back to the gym with the typical pep in his step.

“Thank you, senpai.” He whispers out, smiling at the way his shoulder is squeezed in affirmation. “For being so good to me.”

“Of course, Goshiki-kun, you are our future ace after all.”

And for the first time that day, Tsutomu smiles. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies that it was so short, i didn't want it to be too repetitive of the last chapter.
> 
> but anyway, a few announcements:  
> firstly, thank you so much for 6k reads??? i didn't expect this fic to get as much attention as it did and i truly appreciate the love and support it is getting, it honestly inspires me to write more. 
> 
> secondly, i am going to be **closing prompts** for the foreseeable future. i have a long list i am getting to and don't want the added stress of any extra ones so I'm not going to be taking anymore for the time being, hope you all understand!
> 
> have a wonderful day/night!  
> \- kami <3


	15. kenma and taketora.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _" Guts this, guts that, shut your mouth! You’re just sloppy.”_
> 
> or the aftermath of kenma and taketora's fight their first-year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **this chapter contains spoilers from today's episode (s4e17) of haikyuu! please proceed with caution**
> 
> warning for: warning swats, use of an implement, and use of an implement on hand (ruler)
> 
> _as always this is non-romantic and non-sexual_

“What the  _ hell’s  _ going on?”

Tetsurou had left for five minutes, just five minutes, 300 seconds, and it was all it took for all hell to break loose. When he had heard the yelling, his immediate thought was to panic, something had gone wrong and he could faintly make out Kenma’s voice and what he was pretty certain was Yamamoto’s and it pushed him to run into the gym, speeding past the rest of Nekoma sending concerned looks as he flung the doors open.

Fukunaga was holding an empty bucket, Yamamoto and Kenma dripping wet and scowling at each other like a couple of pissed off cats, and Yaku and Kai were sending each other panicky looks, Yaku’s eyebrows far past his forehead and nearly touching his hairline as he gapes like a fish.

“What,” Tetsurou starts, attempting to keep his tone as even as possible as he analyzes everyone in the room before turning his attention back to the sopping wet boys, “just happened?”

Yaku shifts from behind him, moving closer to Tetsurou in an instant, “The two of them started arguing and at first it was fine, just some yelling but then—”

“But then he fucking  _ grabbed  _ me.” 

Every head in the gym whipped towards the source of the voice, Kenma’s eyes blazing with rage and fists clenching by his side as he reaches up to point as Yamamoto.

“He grabbed me, started screaming at me about guts or something. Guts this, guts that, shut your mouth! You’re just sloppy.”

Tetsurou blinks owlishly, opening his mouth to ask Yamamoto if it was true when he hears a sharp slap, the sound of skin meeting skin.

Kenma’s hand recoils, the setter rubbing against the skin, as Yamamoto seethes, “You had to open your damn mouth and try to correct me. Like  _ you  _ should be the one to talk.” 

Unlike the typical banter the two had with each other, usually Yamamoto berating him for his lack of motivation or otherwise, this isn’t as cheerful or nonchalant. This is serious, the rage emitting off both boys evident even from where Tetsurou stands a good 2 meters away.

This is an actual fight this time.

“Taketora.” Testurou barks out, noting the way the boy winces, “Did you grab Kenma?” 

The boy with the mohawk grumbles, scuffing his foot against the linoleum, “Yeah… But he fucking grabbed me too!” 

“Because you called me a gutless brat!”

“Well, you  _ are _ !”

“Takes one to know one, you stupid—”

“Enough!” 

The two boys’ arguing ceases, Kenma stiffening and turning to scowl at Tetsurou as he, in turn, crosses his arms with a lifted eyebrow before turning to face Yaku.

“Did you not stop them when they started fighting?”

He jolts when he feels a hand on his shoulder, turning to see Kai smiling gently, “We thought they would just yell a bit. It wasn’t until Kozume started getting physical as well that we went to stop it and then, well, Fukunaga decided to drench them and it worked.” 

Tetsurou turns his attention back to Fukunaga, the boy smiling proudly as he holds the, now empty, bucket tightly in his hands.

Honestly, Testsurou doesn’t know if he can actually manage to control this team of his at this point. Not when it had only been a few days since he was deemed captain and he’s already having to deal with a physical altercation between two of his teammates, one of which he had grown up with and the other who he’s only just met a few months ago. 

Taking a deep breath, Tetsurou starts to think about how to handle this entire mess of things. He’ll take it one step at a time. Starting first with the floor, which is now dripping went and sure to get ruined.

“Fukunaga-kun,” he begins after a beat, “go get the mop and clean this mess up for me.” 

The boy shrugs and makes his exit, carrying the bucket with him as he makes his way to the supplies closet in search of the mop. 

“Yakkun, Kai-san,” Tetsurou turns to the other two second-years, “come here a second.” 

Secondly, deal with these soaked bratty cats of his.

Yaku and Kai slink over to him and he sends one more glare to the other boys, making sure they won’t start arguing again or, God forbid, _leave_ before he lets out a heavy sigh. 

“I thought things were getting better.” 

And they  _ were _ , for a moment at least. Kenma had finally been showing an actual interest in playing, not just doing it to appease Tetsurou or because his mother had even forced (read, heavily encouraged) him to do it. Sure he still wasn’t the most athletic, but he made up for it in his analytical skills and he was a viable asset to the team. Yamamoto too, he was extremely energetic and their upcoming ace, which made sense considering how talented the kid had gotten as of late. Sure his practice match was a little shaky, but Tetsurou still found himself extremely impressed with his tenacity and quickness to adjust. The two of them would make a great team, would pull out the best in each other, but right now? They were only tearing each other down. 

Yaku hums gently, eyes focusing on the two boys, “Kozume’s always been a little, how should I put it, not up to Yamamoto’s standards.” 

“Yamamoto always yells about guts and motivation. I think he’s expecting too much from Kozume, really.” Kai chimes in, “He’s asking Kozume to do something that he obviously isn’t willing to do.”

“They’re both in the wrong, though.” Yaku urges, sighing out himself and letting his shoulders fall, rolling them back to alleviate the tension, “I know that Yamamoto had grabbed Kozume first but Kozume attacked him too.”

“It’s true,” Kai nods, “I know it may not seem it, especially because it’s Kozume, but he was equally aggressive.”

Tetsurou knows they have a point, and right now, he really can’t play favorites; not when he knows they both got physical. 

Another glance back over to the duo shows Kenma deflating, coming off his high and obviously realizing how he reacted, and Yamamoto glaring sullenly at the ground, water dripping from both of their heads. 

“Well,” Tetsurou turns back to the two of them, “what do we do?”

Being drenched by water was honestly punishment in itself, that water was definitely cold, judging by how much the two of them were shivering, and he was tempted to have them sweep the gym bottom to top as well. But judging by the way Yamamoto still has that spark in his eyes when he looks up, going as far to send a glare to Kenma which, in turn, causes Kenma to nearly  _ hiss  _ in response, Tetsurou knows that it isn’t enough. 

“Knock it off you two.” Tetsurou finds himself scolding before he can think twice, “You’re behaving like a couple of brats right now.” 

Fortunately, the two of them mellow down, but the signs of a fight between both of them are rather concerning. If he doesn’t do something soon, he’s scared that one of them will snap again and the last thing he wants to deal with is breaking up a childish fight. 

“I swear, it’s like they’re a couple of punk middle schoolers.” Yaku murmurs under his breath and Tetsurou’s ears perk up slightly, “Just need to whip them into shape.” 

Not the wording he would have used, but the implication is still there and it’s just enough to push Tetsurou to a conclusion on what to do. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it, especially not with Kenma. 

“Yakkun, can you help me deal with this? And Kai, can you make sure Fukuaga actually finishes mopping the water?”

The kid had been waiting awkwardly this whole time, not able to get to the puddle of water because of the Yamamoto and Kenma brooding on top of it. 

Kai nods and makes his way over to him as Tetsurou tugs Yaku along with him, getting to the two delinquents and fixing his gaze on them both. 

“We’re going to deal with this issue elsewhere, come on.” 

Kenma grumbles under his breath, obviously something profane, but Tetsurou doesn’t let him finish, simply grasping his wrist and turning him around to lay a couple of smacks against the seat of his pants. Any previous fight Kenma had before vanishes in an instant, the look of irritation morphing into one of realization and he shrinks on himself in shame, cheeks turning a bright red at being swatted in front of his team. 

“Anything else you want to say?” Kenma shakes his head and Tetsurou takes it as his cue to continue, keeping his hold on his wrist as he guides Kenma out, turning over his shoulder to call out, “Yamamoto, let’s go.” 

The boy practically trips over himself to follow after them, Yaku following closely behind as a deterrent to keep him from fleeing. 

“Where are we going?” Yamamoto whispers out, Tetsurou ignoring him as he continues to lead them out of the gym and towards the closest empty room he can find, which just so happens to be a classroom, which he ushers them into before closing the door behind them.

“Both of you, find a corner and stick your nose in it.” Tetsurou instructs, raising an eyebrow when Kenma goes to argue. He releases the boy’s hand and pats his bottom to go to the corner opposite of him, moving to do the same to Yamamoto when the boy stays where he is, eyes wide in a mix of confusion and shock.

“C-Corner?” He squawks out, “What are we, five!?”

Yaku beats him to respond, the shorter boy crossing his arms and leveling him, “You behaved like a child and so you’ll be treated as one. Now  _ go _ ,” Yaku commands, it’s scary enough to even cause  _ Tetsurou  _ to feel a shiver go down his spine, “before I decide to deal with you myself.”

It’s enough of a push to get Yamamoto to listen, the boy propelling himself into the corner before Yaku can make true on his promise.

“Ten minutes.” He instructs, pulling his phone out of his pocket to start a timer, “Take this time to think about what you did wrong and what you could have done to avoid it.” 

Once both boys are facing the corners completely, Tetsurou ignoring the way Kenma sulks in his, he turns to Yaku who looks just as stern as before.

“Yakkun, can you go find a ruler for me?” He asks loud enough for the two boys to hear.

Kenma jolts from where he is in the corner, “Tetsu, come on.” He whines out, going as far as to stamp his foot, “You can’t be serious.”

“I am very serious.” Tetsurou reaffirms, “And you know better than to talk when you’re in the corner.”

Kenma kicks the wall once more but doesn’t bother saying anything else and Yaku moves to search for a ruler after that, rummaging around on the desk and managing to find one on top of a stack of papers.

He walks back, handing the ruler over to him before clasping his hands.

“What do you need me to do, captain?”

The question is sincere and unlike other times when Yaku would teasingly call him captain, this time it’s meaningful; Tetsurou  _ is  _ the captain, and it’s his job to make sure that he handles any issues on the team — no matter how unpleasant they may be. He can’t help but smile, holding onto the ruler as he ruffles Yaku’s hair, laughing quietly at the glare sent his way.

“Can you just be my moral support?” He admits sheepishly, “I… I’ve only really done this a couple of times with Kenma.”

Yaku shoots him a thumbs up and that’s all he needs to relax, to mentally prepare himself to deal with this; to discipline, no,  _ spank _ his kohais. 

He checks his phone and lets out a deep breath when he sees the timer has hit 0, nodding towards Yaku as he makes his way back towards the boys.

“Alright, come on out.” 

It’s increasingly obvious Yamamoto is confused still, judging by the glances he sends to Kenma who, in turn, stares pointedly at his feet, and Tetsurou can’t help but feel a little bad for keeping him in the dark about what’s going to happen.

“I’m very disappointed in the two of you. I trusted both of you to be civil, to be mature, but instead, what do I come back to? Two soaking wet boys who fought with each other,  _ physically _ , and, in turn, caused three of your teammates to become involved in a childish argument.”

Tetsurou feels like his father right now, with the way he’s pacing around the classroom, wagging his finger at the two delinquents. 

“I don’t know what exactly was said by either of you but what matters is that you fought, the both of you, and you’re both going to deal with the consequences.”

He exhales, rolling his shoulders back, “Taketora. What exactly did you say to Kenma?”

The boy visibly stiffens at that, not prepared to have to explain himself, “Uh, well, he mentioned something about loosening my shoulders, and then I got mad because he basically implied I didn’t have guts so I, well, snapped.” 

Tetsurou nods, humming gently as he turns to Yaku for confirmation and is almost relieved to see the second-year nodding in agreement.

“Kenma, and you? What did you tell Taketora?”

Kenma huffs, Tetsurou worrying that he may have to give him another incentive to behave when he mumbles out a response. 

“He kept going on and on about guts, called me a gutless brat, so I said he needed to have actual intelligence to win, not just guts.” 

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“No, but if the shoe fits then—”

“That’s  _ enough _ ,” Tetsurou snaps, running his free hand down his face before reaching up to massage his temples, “Basically what I’m hearing is you both got into an argument over whoever had the most guts? Is that all this is?”

Yamamoto shrugs, “Kenma just doesn’t care, it’s obvious.” 

“When did I say I didn’t care? Just because I’m not lapping everyone on the team and not lifting weights all the time doesn’t mean I don’t give a hell.”

“I believe Kuroo told you both to stop arguing.” Yaku interrupts, the two immediately reigning it in and mumbling under their breaths, Tetsurou unable to resist sending a silent ‘thank you’ to the older boy, “It would serve you well to do as your told.” 

Tetsurou decides that now is the best time to start, pulling out the chair beside him and sitting in it before calling both boys’ attention.

“Seeing as you need to strengthen your teamwork,” he begins, setting the ruler on his right thigh, “you can work together to decide who goes first.” 

The room is silent, for all of three seconds, until all hell breaks loose in the form of two screaming and arguing boys.

“Kuro, this isn’t fair!”

“Kuroo, sir, senpai, do we  _ really  _ need to do this?”

“If you don’t decide  _ I’ll  _ do it for you, and trust me, you won’t like that.” He taps the ruler against his thigh once more and closes his eyes, “I’ll give you ten seconds.” 

He hears angry whispering and then the sound of someone storming over, looking up to see Yamamoto sulking in front of him, hands wringing his shirt. Tetsurou nods, sending a glance back to Kenma who is being watched over like a hawk by Yaku-paisen, before turning his attention back to the boy in front of him.

“Right, thank you, Taketora.” He reaches for the boy, pulling his track pants down and turning him over his knee, “Let’s go ahead and get this over with.” 

Tetsurou lets his hand snap down sharply, not bothering with the ruler, for right now, and focuses on covering the boy’s backside with a flurry of harsh swats. He ignores the squirming, simply moving a leg to trap the boy’s in place, before he continues to let his hand fall, making sure to land a good few at the bottom of his rear end, where his skin peeks out from his boxers. 

“When we have issues with teammates, we don’t resort to violence.” Tetsurou scolds, tone of voice as equally sharp his hand, “No matter what the circumstances are.” 

Yamamoto kicks up weakly, unable to fully get his leg to move due to Tetsurou’s own leg holding it down, and he whimpers, “I—I… I just, just don’t get it! How someone who doesn’t  _ care  _ can be so good!”

His hand pauses mid-air, head cocking to the side in a mix of curiosity and amusement, “You’re upset because Kenma is good but you don’t think he cares?” 

“I mean, I work so hard and train so hard only for what? Kozume to surpass me when he doesn’t care nearly as much? When he’s lazy and lets the ball fall, or, or falls behind in laps or—”

The complaining is interrupted by the flat of Tetsurou’s hand colliding with his backside again, the captain letting out a ‘tsk’ in disapproval. 

“It’s true!” 

Tetsurou doesn’t respond, just letting his hand reach to tug the boy’s boxers down to meet his track pants around his knees, before letting the first swat fall against his bare skin. 

“Making assumptions about your teammate is discourteous, Taketora. You don’t know Kenma’s true feelings about this and it makes you look like an ass when you try to make them up yourself.” 

He takes his chance to glance over at Kenma, the younger boy staring at his feet and ears twinged red as Yaku rests a firm hand against the back of his neck. It’s clear that he’s embarrassed, and Tetsurou would almost,  _ almost _ , feel bad if Kenma hadn’t had a part in this fight. 

“Okay, I’m sorry!” Yamamoto gripes, feet kicking, “I won’t make anymore assumptions!”

“It’s not  _ just  _ about making assumptions though, kid.” Tetsurou continues his lecture, hand not letting up on its assault, “You can’t let your anger get the better of you. One day it’ll land you in serious trouble, you know that, right?”

Yamamoto nods aggressively against Tetsurou’s pant leg, hands gripping it tightly, “I’m sorry… I just, just got upset.” 

He hums, “I know, and that’s fine, but what  _ isn’t  _ fine is getting physical.” 

Tetsurou reaches for the ruler after that, bringing it to rest against the boy’s backside and tapping it down, “You’re getting 15, okay?”

Yamamoto nods and Tetsurou lets the ruler snap down after that, making sure to cover the majority of his bottom with it.

“Next time you have an issue with a teammate, you come to me, understood? I don’t want to see another fight break out and I sure as hell don’t want to have this conversation again, Taketora Yamamoto.” 

The last five swats fall and Yamamoto cries out loudly as Tetsurou drops the ruler to the ground, moving his leg and pulling the boy up, hugging him tightly.

“You’re done now, you’re okay.” He reassures, stroking his spine, “You were very good.”

Yamamoto nods into his chest and Tetsurou smiles, reaching to stroke the boy’s hair before guiding his face away from him.

“But I need you to go stand with Yaku now, okay? Just until I finish with Kenma.”

Begrudgingly, the boy obeys, pulling away from Tetsurou and wincing as he tugs his bottoms back up as he slinks away to Yaku. He watches as Yaku nudges Kenma forward, hand previously resting on his neck moving to wrap around Yamamoto in a side hug.

“Come on, Kenma.” He calls to the boy, readjusting himself in the, extremely uncomfortable, desk chair, “You’re not getting out of this.” 

The boy makes a wounded sound but still comes over anyway, Tetsurou grateful he doesn’t have to wrangle him like a toddler. Unlike Yamamoto, Tetsurou tugs both his trackpants and boxers down before turning him over his lap, letting his non-dominant hand press firmly against his lower back. 

“You, Kenma Kozume, should  _ know  _ better than this.” Tetsurou starts his lecture, hand quickly falling in a pattern, “When have we  _ ever  _ resorted to violence?”

Kenma squirms around and Tetsurou is quick to reward it with two swats to his upper thighs, the boy over his lap crying out, “N-Never…” 

“Then tell me,” Tetsurou scolds, “what made you  _ think _ that you could attack another teammate like you did?”

“Y-Yamamoto-kun started it!” He winces as Tetsurou hand falls again, “He did!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to engage, Kyanma. You should have gone to Yaku, or Kai, hell, left and come find me.” 

Kenma whimpers when Tetsurou picks up the pace, dutifully painting his kohai’s backside a reddish hue, “I was just trying to stick up for myself.” 

“By fighting?” Tetsurou’s eyebrow raising, despite the fact Kenma can’t see it, “I didn’t realize that “sticking up for yourself” required physical violence.”

Kenma was stubborn, he always had been and Tetsurou was fairly certain he always would be. He worked hard to beat the system, finding ways to get what he wanted without necessarily “breaking the rules” and Tetsurou, honestly, admired it. Until it came to matters like this, when Kenma would do everything in his immediate power to weasel out of a (well deserved) spanking or otherwise. 

Tetsurou reaches for the ruler after a few more swats, letting it rest against the crest of his bottom. 

“Tetsu, please…” Kenma whines again, “I didn’t mean to fight, promise. You don’t have to— you don’t  _ need  _ to do this!”

“Yamamoto got it and so are you, Kyanma.” He reaffirms, tapping it once more before letting it fall sharply, “Fifteen.” 

He lets his wrist flick sharply, the ruler snapping down against Kenma’s upturned bottom and he’s met with loud whines and sniffles with each spank. Kenma was terrible with pain, he had always cried as a child when he got injured, and Tetsurou can’t help but feel bad when he hears Kenma crying even now, even if he deserved it.

“Next time you have an issue, you don’t resort to violence. Do you understand me, Kenma Kozume?”

Kenma nods violently into Tetsurou’s pant leg and he takes it as an incentive to let the last two swats with the ruler fall, Kenma sobbing out with each one directed to his thighs. He lets the boy cry over his knee a bit longer before pulling him up into a hug, not able to sit back and watch the boy cry brokenly over his knees. One hand strokes his spine as the other gestures for Yamamoto to come over, Yaku pushing him towards the duo with a slight smile, and Tetsurou pulls him to rest on his other leg. 

They both cry into Tetsurou’s chest and despite the aching throb in his legs from the weight and the way his shirt is definitely ruined by now, he can’t help but hold the two of them tightly against him. He lets them cry out a bit longer, Kenma still clinging onto him even after he’s pulled the boy’s face away, before turning to the both of them with a pointed look.

“No more fighting, am I understood?”

“Yes sir.” 

“Okay…” 

Tetsurou guides them off his lap after that, standing up shakily as Kenma redresses himself. It isn’t until Yaku is by his side that he realizes the older boy has something to say.

“We’re not quite done yet,” Yaku announces bluntly, bending down to pick the ruler up from the floor. Upon seeing the two pairs of eyes widen he chuckles, placing a hand up reassuringly, “This isn’t for your backside, Kuroo already took care of that.” 

He reaches forward and grabs each of their wrists, flipping their palms up and letting the ruler swat down five times each. 

“We keep our hands to ourselves boys, let this,” he gestures to the ruler clenched in his hand, “be a reminder of that, yes?” 

The two of them recoil their hands and rub their palms sulkily but nod, Kenma sniffing and Yamamoto pouting. Tetsurou flings an arm over Yaku’s shoulder at that, smiling brightly at him, “Yaku-paisen, you’re so scary without even trying.”

“You’ll be next if you don’t get your hands off me, Kuroo Tetsurou.” 

_ (Geez, talk about a tough crowd…) _

Tetsurou ignores the twinge of pain in his heart at that, turning his attention to the duo rubbing their backsides, “I believe some apologies are in order, boys.” 

“Kozume, I’m sorry for implying that you didn’t care and had no guts and for trying to hit you.” Yamamoto rambles out before Tetsurou can negate anything, the boy bowing so deeply at Kenma before turning towards Yaku and Tetsurou, “And Kuroo and Yaku-senpai for causing you both issues. I promise it won’t happen again!” 

He guides the boy up and ruffles his hair, “I appreciate your apology, kid. You’re already forgiven.”

“Don’t worry about it, Taketora!” Yaku agrees, reaching for the boy’s hair as well, “Just no more fighting, okay?”

Yamamoto nods and turns to Kenma, the other boy remaining quiet the entire time. Tetsurou sends him a look, eyebrow raising as an encouragement to apologize, and Kenma lets out another sniffle.

“I’m sorry too,” Kenma whispers, “I… I don’t think you’re stupid and I, I honestly admire your passion, Tora.”

“And Kuro and Yaku, I, uh, I’m sorry too…”

Tetsurou and Yaku are pulling the boy in for a hug without a second thought after that, the two laughing at the way Kenma grumbles, before tugging Yamamoto in to join them; the four boys in a bone-crushing hug as Tetsurou smiles fondly.

“I didn’t say I wanted to be hugged...” Kenma grumbles but instead of pulling away, he only relaxes into it more, Yamamoto laughing loudly and Yaku making a cooing noise. 

Maybe being captain wouldn’t be as bad as Tetsurou thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have had this chapter planned out since before today's ep aired because i remember reading it in the manga and immediately thinking "god kuroo probably spanked them for that" and since we obviously didn't get to see it i just _had_ to write it out ;-)
> 
> the dynamics of nekoma make me so very happy and i wanted to include all parts of the party in this (hence why yaku, kai, and fukunaga played important roles) 
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed it! leave kudos and comments? <3
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	16. akaashi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes akaashi gets into his own head and doesn’t know how to get the help he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _warning for implied child abuse!! it isn’t explicitly stated but it’s a huge aspect to this chapter so proceed with caution and heed this warning!_
> 
> other than that, enjoy.

Keiji had always been good at managing stress. Being in all honors classes and the vice-captain of the volleyball team meant trying to balance academics and the chaos brought upon by his team, namely Bokuto-san, on top of the pressure of preparing for university within the next few months. 

He had never gotten easily overwhelmed, he would finish all his schoolwork at the beginning of the week and leave enough time to deal with volleyball without having to worry about quadratic formulas or literature assignments. 

His system worked, he had never had any issues with it.

It took a lot of self-discipline for Keiji to be able to manage his time efficiently, his mother had been the one to introduce him to it and insist that Keiji take care of school before everything else. She had been very… opposed to Keiji playing volleyball, to Keiji joining any sort of extra-curricular that wouldn’t “help him get into a good university”, really. She had wanted him to stick to the violin or literature; stick to the things that  _ she  _ had done. 

But Keiji  _ enjoyed  _ volleyball, he would even go as far as to say he loved it, and being a part of a wonderful team with wonderful people was the best thing that could have ever happened to him. He was strong, passionate, dedicating so much during his first year there and getting rewarded as  _ vice-captain  _ as only a second year. (His mother had been happy to hear that, leadership looked great on university applications, after all.)

The benefits of everything outweighed the burdens, Keiji realizing that his hard work and dedication led him to maintain his perfect grade point average and even more perfect relationship with his teammates as a whole, and for once in his life, he felt like he had everything in order.

Yet, the stress of everything was slowly but surely creeping upon him. 

He had been at practice after a long week of tests; the ample hours spent upstairs in his room studying and preparing, taking notes and reading chapters, mixing with the strenuous practices was finally affecting him. He was beginning to feel drained, both mentally and physically, and the reminder of everything piling up all at once was only weighing him down more, adding on even more pressure.

But he couldn’t very well let one stressful week get to him, not when he had to support the team and make sure he had his assignments submitted on time. 

_ Punctuality was perfection. Perfection was key.  _

_ Anything below average isn’t okay _ , Keiji had heard his mother tell him that so much that it practically consumed his thoughts at this point,  _ and any time spent not doing things is time wasted. _

So Keiji pushed aside the exhaustion creeping up on him and kept working.

How can he rest when there is always something to do? Or something to improve on? 

His body screams at him as he pushes himself off the floor, legs burning as much as his lungs, and makes his way back towards the rest of the team. 

“Akaashi-kun.” Keiji turns his head towards Konoha, “You okay?”

Keiji nods, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to finger through the mess, “Of course. Why do you ask?”

Konoha lets out a noise, something akin to disbelief, “You just seem.. off, really. Even  _ Bokuto  _ noticed something was wrong.” 

A glance back towards the team captain shows him staring at Keiji with eyes wide and filled with concern, hair deflated and lip pouting. 

“I have a lot of school work, Konoha-san.” He replies as casually as he can, hating the way his heart aches with every look sent his direction by Bokuto, “I apologize if it’s affecting my abilities.” 

“Akaashi, I don’t care about that—”

Keiji lifts his hand, “Konoha-san. Honestly, I’m fine.” He chances one more glance over to Bokuto, sending a soft reassuring smile, “Don’t worry about me, okay? I promise I’ll improve come this weekend’s camp.” 

Konoha huffs, mumbling something incoherent under his breath as he turns and heads over to where Bokuto is. The older boy has been watching this entire time, very intently, and Keiji is about to head over to reassure him that he’s  _ fine  _ when the coach blows his whistle. 

“Alright,” he calls after a beat, “stop standing around. Let’s get back to it.”

Keiji pushes away the throb in his temple and the need for sleep, or a break, threatening to take over his entire body as he heads back onto the court and into position. 

He’s fine, honestly, Konoha-san is worrying over nothing. 

* * *

Keiji was not fine.

The weekend came before he could entirely prepare himself and even though he had managed to finish all of his work and assignments, he still felt very overwhelmed. 

There weren’t any  _ real _ games being played either, no tournaments, just two days practicing against schools in the Tokyo district to prepare for the upcoming Spring Interhighs, yet Keiji couldn’t help but feel so much dread. 

He was overreacting, getting all worked up over absolutely nothing and causing himself, in turn, to lose sleep over it. Fortunately, he had an entire hour-long bus ride to get rid of these terrible feelings he was holding onto, to shake it all off and get his life together, but he spent a majority of it staring out the window and they ended up pulling into the parking lot of Nekoma High before he could calm his racing thoughts.

Keiji was anxious, stressed, completely overwhelmed, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it at this point. 

So, he put on a facade, marched into the gym filled with all the different schools, and acted like he wasn’t slowly falling apart at the seams. 

He can’t even send a smile to Bokuto when his friend waves him over, Keiji too focused on keeping himself in control, and his nervous energy is noticeable because he can feel 20 pairs of eyes focusing on him. 

Keiji inhales shakily, turning stiffly to face his team and painting the most convincing smile he can conceive onto his face. 

“Let’s do this.” His attempt to seem motivational falling short with his obvious shakiness and broken voice. 

Bokuto is the first to say something, Keiji whipping his head up to meet the boy and expecting to see his eyes sparkling with pride but instead he’s met with despair, fear, something resembling discomfort. 

“Akawsh,” Bokuto whispers out, hand slowly moving to rest on his shoulder and Keiji tenses, “You don’t seem too good, everything okay?” 

Keiji nods beside himself, even if he isn’t feeling 100% he can’t sit back and let Bokuto worry so much about him; the captain already had so much on his plate and it was  _ Keiji  _ who looked after him, not the other way around, that’s always how it would go. 

“I’m fine, Bokuto-san.” He reassures, clenching his fist by his side to keep it from shaking, “Just a little drowsy from our bus ride.”

Bokuto nods and Keiji isn’t sure if it’s because he believes him or if he just wants to change the topic but he’s grateful for it either way. The last thing he needs to do is worry Bokuto with this issue of his, not when he needed to make sure he was on the top of his game. 

It’s just an impasse, Keiji would manage to get through it with no issues; he just needed a bit more time to relax and calm his nerves. 

Except he didn’t have time, not when he’s being beckoned over by coach and sliding his sports bib on over his t-shirt. 

There would be time to control his fleeting thoughts later, he needed to be there for his team first. 

It only takes half of the first set for Keiji to feel his insecurities returning, a failed set followed by tripping over his own feet making his head spin and he has to close his eyes and count to ten. 

“Akaashi, you need to breathe, son.” Coach chides from the bench, his concern masked with the stern demeanor he holds onto, “It’s just a practice match.”

Keiji nods, bowing so quickly he gets whiplash before he’s straightening up and bounding back onto the court without a second glance back. 

He just needs to breathe and calm down, breathe and calm down, breathe and-

The ball is passing over his head and onto the floor behind him in an instant, Keiji so wrapped up in his own thoughts he didn’t recognize the play being made and the sound of the ball colliding with the linoleum echoes in the back of his mind. 

Keiji let the ball fall to the floor, Bokuto was standing there ready to send it over and Keiji failed him. 

His feet are moving under him before his brain can catch up, Keiji nearly running out of the gym and into the nearest bathroom as his lungs burn and his eyes begin to feel wet. He needs to calm down, find a place to just let it all out in private before he reconvenes and is able to provide the support he needs to his team. 

He ends up hunched over a sink moments later, hands shaking profusely as he turns it on and breathing fast and frantic. He’s barely able to control himself enough to splash his face with water to calm down at this point, the frustration of it all growing as he makes a bigger mess, before he manages to splash a bit more water on him as gently and carefully as he can. 

Keiji lets out a shaky breath after turning the tap off, a whimper peeling from his lips as he clenches onto the sides of the sinks so tightly and screws his eyes shut. 

He was  _ not  _ having a breakdown, no. He  _ couldn’t  _ be having one, especially not in the middle of a practice match where he’s meant to be setting for his teammates and especially not at a school he’s not entirely familiar with. 

Yet here he is, crying into a sink in a public school’s bathroom and hating himself for it. 

He needs to go back, people will start getting concerned if he’s gone too long and Bokuto is probably seconds away from busting through the door in tears, yet his legs feel like jelly and he can’t control his breathing. Everything is too much: the gym, the matches, the people, the crippling reminder of every little thing he has to do in order to succeed in life, it’s all falling on top of him like a heavy weight and he can’t find the strength to lift it off of him. 

He hears the door open and Keiji breaks into a full-fledged panic, head whipping towards it and trying his best not to cry.

“S-Sorry,” his voice trembles anyway, “I’m just about to leave. Don’t worry about—”

Kuroo is standing in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth open, and Keiji lets out a quiet sob. 

Arms are around him in an instant after that, his body being pulled away from the sink and towards the floor as he breathes heavily into Kuroo’s chest. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tries to reassure, the way his voice breaks betraying him, “I need to go back.”

Kuroo only holds him tighter, “Akaashi, are you out of your mind? You’re having a breakdown in the bathroom, that's the  _ last  _ thing you need right now.” 

“I’m not having a b-breakdown,” he tries to argue, knowing that it’s an obvious lie, “I just needed a minute, h-honest.”

“I came in to you crying in front of the sink, Akaashi.” Kuroo’s hand resting against his back makes him want to sob out loudly, “You can’t tell me that you’re fine after that.” 

“Kuroo-san, don’t you need to get back to your team?” Keiji whispers as he attempts to pull himself away entirely, hands pushing against the tile floor to help himself up, but Kuroo’s grip on him only tightens as he’s hugged tighter, “Kuroo-san.”

“Kai and Yaku can deal with them,” Kuroo affirms, readjusting Keiji on his lap, “ _ I  _ want to make sure  _ you’re  _ okay.”

Keiji exhales through his nose, “Why would you care so much, it’s not like we’re on the same team. And you’re friends with  _ Bokuto-san _ , too, not me. Let me go back, Kuroo-san. I don’t— I’m  _ fine _ .”

The thing about Kuroo is that he was stubborn, Keiji had seen it for himself first-hand ever since he met the boy last year, and he knew it was inevitable to convince him to leave after all of this. Keiji didn’t know much else about Kuroo, really, except the fact he was extremely nurturing to Kozume-san and his entire team as a whole, and that the older boy was very adamant on showing Keiji that now with the way he was holding onto him on his lap, arms wrapping around him and stroking from the nape of his neck down to his back before cycling the pattern again. 

“Are you fine, though?”

Keiji looks up ever so slowly, meeting Kuroo’s pointed stare and quickly closing them as he nods aggressively. Looking at Kuroo only made things worse; Keiji couldn’t deal with the disappointment or concern etched on his face, it would only lead to him crying. 

“Yes.” He gritted out, eyes still closed as he focuses on controlling his breathing. 

Kuroo hums, hands reaching to grab Keiji’s face gently, “I didn’t take you for a liar, Akaashi.”

The touch on his cheek is enough to cause him to still, a lump forming in his throat at the soothing brush of Kuroo’s fingers. 

“You always seem to have everything in control,” Kuroo speaks again after a moment of silence, hand not moving from his cheek as he lets his thumb rub small circles, “the way you take care of Bokuto and make sure your team as a whole is doing okay, but I think you’ve reached your breaking point. It’s okay to need help sometimes, Akaashi, you’re a human being.”

Keiji wilts at the words, hating how quickly his body loosens and face leans further into the hand resting on his cheek. He can’t help but feel so very broken, the husk of his body that had been holding onto so much for so long finally cracking apart at the hands of someone who’s taken so much time out of his own life to check up on someone as fragile as Keiji. 

“I don’t… I don’t  _ need  _ it.” His voice hoarse, the first tear welling up in his eye, “I don’t…” 

_ I don’t deserve it. _

“I’m meant to be the one to have things in control, everything has to be orderly and-and perfect. I can’t just, just go to a bathroom and cry because of the fact I’m a little o-overwhelmed, Kuroo-san. It’s so pathetic.” 

The hand stroking his cheek stops and Keiji slowly looks to meet Kuroo, his mouth set in a straight line and jaw clenched in disapproval. 

“Akaashi, how old are you?”

Keiji’s eyebrows furrow at the unexpected question, “S-Sixteen.”

“Exactly, you’re 16-years-old. You are a  _ teenager _ , still in high school. Why do you feel the need to act like you’re already a grown adult? To act like you  _ have _ to have your life completely in order when you still have another year left of school before university?” He squeezes his cheek a little firmer, Keiji’s lip quivering, “It’s not pathetic to be overwhelmed and need a break, Akaashi.” 

“It is!” Keiji’s voice raising as his frustration increases, “I can’t just… just go and  _ cry  _ about this, Kuroo-san. I’m not allowed to!”

“Not allowed to?” Keiji has never heard Kuroo’s voice sound like this before, so harsh and serious and, well,  _ scary _ , “Akaashi. What is going on?”

_ “Keiji, you got a 95 on your recent test?”  _

_ Keiji looked up from his phone, finger hovering over the keyboard and pausing his text to Bokuto.  _

_ “It was harder than I had expected, mother.” He responds as politely as he can, hating the way his stomach coils.  _

_ “You’re spending too much time with that boy,” his mother states dryly, eyes scanning the phone in Keiji’s hand, “that loud one. Always speaking out of turn and behaving like a child. He’s a bad influence for you, Keiji. You need to spend more time focusing on your academics and less time hanging out with the likes of him.”  _

_ Keiji stiffens, retort on the tip of his tongue quickly vanishing at the lifted brow and stern gaze his mother possesses. A silent “do not argue with me” painted on her face.  _

_ “Yes, mother.” He nods, backpacking his message and sending a small “ _ can’t talk now _ ” to Bokuto as he opens his textbook, “I’ll spend the rest of the night studying.”  _

_ Her hand on his shoulder feels like ice as it’s patting him, “Good boy. That’s my Keiji.”  _

“I can’t waste valuable time wallowing in my own self pity when there are things that must be done.”

Kuroo scoffs, “Self— Akaashi, what?” Keiji is adjusted for the second time since Kuroo pulled him from the sink, hand holding his face and forcing their eyes to meet, “This is not self pity, this is a mental breakdown.  _ This _ is you holding onto so much for so long and reaching your breaking point.” 

“Kuroo-san, I’m—“

“You better not try and say ‘I’m fine’ again. I don’t condone lying and you, Akaashi Keiji, are lying straight to my face.” 

Keiji stiffens, holding in a breath before exhaling it shakily, “I’m sorry.” 

Kuroo nods, “I know you are, but you don’t need to apologize to me for this.” 

“But I spoke poorly towards you and out of turn, that’s impolite of me.” 

“It’s okay, Akaash—“

“No it’s not! Don’t you get it?” 

Keiji freezes the same time Kuroo’s hand does, the two boys sitting in a deafening silence. It’s like the world stopped spinning, like everything just froze in place at the words that left Keiji’s mouth. 

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to yell.” 

The hand moves and Keiji flinches involuntarily, breath hitching and only relaxing when it moves to stroke his cheek again. Kuroo must notice, his eyes widen and then soften instantly but he doesn’t say anything and Keiji can’t help but feel so very relieved about that.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay.” His thumb rubbing a small circle, “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“But I—“

Kuroo shakes his head, “No, Akaashi. Listen to me. I don’t know everything that’s been going on but I do know this: you don’t have to hold onto all of this, to act like you’re okay when you’re not. It’s okay to need a moment away from everything to cry or yell or just let go of all of the baggage you’ve been holding onto.” His hand still continuing its gentle stroking, “You’re a good person, I can see how kind and dedicated you are. It’s time you bring that positivity inward for once.”

Keiji lifts his eyes, inwardly wincing at the passion behind Kuroo’s own and the small tut he lets out when he tries to look away. His face is held tightly in Kuroo’s hand, thumb and pointer guiding his chin and forcing their eyes to meet despite how much Keiji wishes he could shrink away under the intense gaze. 

“No, look at me and listen.” Kuroo commands and Keiji, unable to do anything else (and, frankly, not finding the willpower to disobey), meets his eyes, “How long have you been holding onto all of this, Akaashi? Forcing yourself to pretend to be okay when you’re really not?”

He hums softly, “I…” Keiji can’t even respond to that because really, he doesn’t know anymore. 

“I’m guessing it’s been a while, huh, Akaashi?”

Keiji nods the best he can, the vice grip Kuroo had on him previously loosening as he pats his cheek once more before stretching his arms above his head with a grunt. 

“So, let’s deal with it.”

Despite the vagueness behind it all, Keiji isn’t entirely oblivious to what Kuroo is suggesting. He had enough first-hand encounters with the dynamics of Nekoma and had even gone as far as to deal with it himself with his own team — well, just Bokuto-san, really, he wasn’t comfortable enough with anyone else to do…  _ that  _ — to know that dealing with it involves more than just words. 

And to be frank? Keiji isn’t sure if he’s  _ ready  _ to deal with it all. 

But he doesn’t get to answer, not when Kuroo is grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him to rest over his lap with his bottom upturned.

“This isn’t because you went to the bathroom to cry or because you yelled or got upset or even because you walked out of a practice match,” Kuroo states firmly, “this is because you’re choosing to hold onto so much and refusing to get the help you clearly need and  _ I’m  _ going to be the one to help you, Akaashi.” 

His hand falls sharply after that and Keiji gasps, toes curling as more swats fall down in a stinging pattern against his rear. 

“You’re young, Akaashi. A second-year who’s vice captain of a powerhouse volleyball team and also the top of your class. You’re in honors classes on top of that, doing university prep. You spend so much time outside of school doing even  _ more _ work yet you never take a break.” Kuroo’s hand is as sharp as his words, Keiji hissing out with each stinging swat that lands on his backside and his hands scramble for purchase to resist reaching back to cover himself, “Why is that?”

Keiji screws his eyes shut, toes drumming gently against the linoleum, “Because I  _ can’t  _ take a break, Kuroo-san. I already told you that.” 

The hand freezes and Keiji is momentarily stunned, until he feels the same fingers reaching to the waistband of his pants and starting to tug them down to his knees.

“W-Wait, Kuroo-san—”

It stings far worse over just his boxers, Keiji hissing out and clenching his fist tightly against Kuroo’s sweatpants as more swats begin to fall over the small layer of protection he still has on. 

“Sorry but ‘I can’t’ is not an answer.” Kuroo chides, “Is there something you aren’t telling me, Akaashi? A reason  _ why _ you’re refusing to take care of yourself?”

Keiji whimpers at the implication, head turning back to look at Kuroo, “It’s not me  _ refusing _ . I take perfectly good care of myself but I just— I can’t just take a break, I can’t  _ do _ things like this…”

He’s met with a gentle hum, “You keep saying ‘can’t’, Akaashi, but I’m not sure why. You can do whatever you want when it comes to your well-being and if that means you need to step away for a moment, you have every right to.”

He can’t though, he really can’t. 

“Kuroo-san, I…” Another swat falls, this time closer to the exposed skin that peeks out from his boxers, and he lets out his first yelp, “I’m not  _ allowed _ to! I-I wish I could just… just take a break and cry everything out and then have everything be fine and not so damn numbing but I-I…” His fist unclenches from Kuroo’s pant leg, voice soft, “I’m not allowed.”

There’s a sense of reprieve when the hand doesn’t fall again, instead moving to stroke his spine and Keiji feels so worn out and broken that every touch is heavenly at this point. 

“I’m not…” Kuroo lets out a frustrated sigh, “I don’t understand. Why the hell are you not allowed to have emotions, Akaashi? You’re a human being, you aren’t a damn robot.”

Keiji’s lungs feel so heavy as he exhales, “My mother is… very adamant on me being, well, perfect and she always says that there’s no reason for me to c-cry. So I just, I don’t cry. I don’t  _ let  _ myself because it’s just me disappointing her in the end and that’s the last thing I need to do.” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying so desperately not to cry, “I already disappointed her enough in choosing to play volleyball…”

Despite getting it off his chest, Keiji doesn’t feel much better. His eyes still burn from the tears he refuses to let fall, lungs burning and breathing heavy and the way his fingers are numb from the way he’s been clenching his hands this entire time makes him sniffle. He’s too anxious to glance back at Kuroo at this point, too scared to see the look on the boy’s face at his confession, yet the silence is so deafening that it makes Keiji squirm over his lap. 

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

His shoulders move on their own, shrugging a response as Kuroo lets out a sigh.

“I didn’t think it was important... “ He reaches up to wipe his nose with the back of his hand, “We aren’t… we aren’t that close and I don’t really like talking about family issues so—”

“Keiji.” He tenses at that, swallowing thickly, “I want to apologize.”

His hand falls, neck craning to meet Kuroo’s eyes once more, “For what?”

“For not realizing sooner, that you were dealing with all of this.” Kuroo smiles as he continues to stroke Keiji’s spine, “I’ve dealt with these feelings before, albeit different circumstances, and I should have  _ known  _ something was wrong. That you were struggling for so long and keeping all of this to yourself.”

Keiji blinks away a tear, “I-I wasn’t expecting you to realize, Kuroo-san. It’s just, well, I’m used to handling it on my own and I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone with my… parental matters.”

He’s met with a laugh and Keiji finds himself smiling for the first time in a long time as the tension dissipates, “It’s okay, Keiji, you’re okay.”

And he is, because even though he’s turned over his acquaintance’s, no, his  _ friend’s _ , knee he can’t help but feel so much more at ease than he had before he entered the bathroom.

“Let’s finish this up, okay?”

Keiji’s world tilts on its axis at that, the cool breeze of the bathroom increasing tenfold as his boxers are tugged down to meet his shorts that rest around his knees and he lets out an indignant squawk. 

“I-Is this really necessary, Kuroo-san?”

Kuroo hums, hand falling for the first time against his bare skin and he gasps, “You lied to me, Akaashi, and like I said earlier,” he brings his hand down three more times, “I don’t condone lying.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.” Keiji hisses when another swat falls, the sting  _ far  _ more prominent now. 

“I know, but the fact is you still did it.” Kuroo matching his point with two swats at the tops of his thighs, “You lied to me about your feelings and that’s not okay, Akaashi.”

Keiji lets out another hiss, “I’m sorry! I just, just didn’t want to bother you with my issues.” 

“It’s not a bother, Akaashi.” Kuroo’s firm words being accented with a sharp swat, “it’s  _ never _ a bother.”

He can’t help but let his leg kick up again, whimpering when he’s met with two stinging swats to his sensitive undercurve; he suddenly realizes exactly  _ why  _ Kozume-san comes back from a “chat” with Kuroo-san rubbing his bottom and sniffling so much. 

“Ow…” Keiji whimpers out once more beside himself, hating how weak and pathetic he sounds, “I’m sorry…”

Kuroo hums as his hand continues to crash down, “I know, Keiji, that’s why we’re here.”

Keiji nods and swallows back a sob as another swat meets the top of his thigh, toes curling and eyes scrunching shut. 

“The next time you feel this way, come see me.” Kuroo’s voice so gentle despite the harsh and stinging swats he lets fall onto his backside, “You don’t have to do this on your own anymore, Keiji. No, you don’t  _ get  _ to, not when you have so much support.”

Keiji swallows back a sob, “Y-You don’t have to, Kuroo-san. I mean-“

The sob he was trying so hard to conceal is ripped out of him when Kuroo’s hand falls against his sit spots harder than before. 

“I  _ want  _ to, Keiji. I want to help you because it sucks to have all these feelings, to hold onto so much on your own at a vulnerable age and not let anyone in to help you.” Kuroo meets his point with another three swats to his sit spots before he,  _ thankfully _ , moves back up to his bottom, “We all have issues we don’t want to talk about, whether we feel insecure about them or otherwise, but sometimes we just have to find the courage to admit we aren’t okay and that we do need help.” 

Keiji can’t stop sobbing after that, the realization of it all hitting him full force and hurting just as much as the spanking Kuroo is delivering.

“I don’t want to do this a-alone anymore…” Keiji confesses and a weight is lifted from his shoulders, “I w-want to get better, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo hums and brings his hand down once more before it’s rubbing up his spine gently, “We can work on it together, okay? You never have to deal with these feelings alone ever again, not when I’m here.” 

It’s a simple declaration, Keiji only really ever talking with Kuroo when it’s dealing with the shenanigans he and Bokuto are planning, yet there is so much truth behind it that Keiji knows it isn’t an empty promise. 

“You’re only a city over, Keiji.” Kuroo hums, “You ever get like this tell me and I’ll be on the next train over.”

Keiji laughs softly, “Or you could just call?”

Kuroo makes a wounded noise at that but his fingers are still threading through Keiji’s hair so gently as he continues to stroke his spine, “Alright, alright… I  _ guess  _ we can just talk on the phone, mister big shot.” 

“That… That would be nice, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo pats his back, “ Please, call me Tetsurou.”

Keiji sniffles, “Tetsurou. Thank you, for being a good friend.” 

“It’s nothing, you deserve the support.” Kuroo rubbing his back once more before his hand moves back to Keiji’s bottom, “We’re almost done, there’s just one more thing I want to talk about.”

A quick flurry of swats stack up in the same spot and Keiji’s toes curl, fingers clenched tightly against Kuroo’s pant leg, before he finally shifts his attention to Keiji’s other cheek. 

“No more lying, no more hiding how we feel, and no more trying to deny help, got it?” Kuroo scolds after he places ten matching swats to his opposite cheek, “I don’t want to revisit this conversation and I’m sure you won’t want to either, right, Keiji?”

Keiji nods aggressively as he lets out another sob, “Promise, promise!” 

Kuroo’s hand stills completely after that, the older boy guiding him off his lap and pulling him tightly against his chest and Keiji can do nothing but let his sobs rake out and tears soak into his shirt. 

His mother had always told him crying was a sign of weakness, Keiji choosing to repress any sort of emotion or feeling for all these years, and finally being able to let go of everything was almost a relief. It was like all the horrible thoughts he had been holding onto were washing away with every tear that fell, every sob that rang out, and the hand stroking his back makes him feel so content and warm and  _ safe. _

Keiji feels safe. 

“You doing okay, Keiji?” Kuroo whispers out after a while, his hand not stroking his back resting against his cheek and guiding his face away slowly so their eyes meet, “Do you feel better or are you going to need some more time?”

Despite the exhaustion of everything, Keiji feels so much better than he has in weeks, a floaty feeling taking over as he nods with a soft smile. 

“I’m okay, honest.” He closes his eyes, “This time I really am okay.”

Kuroo pats his back as he guide Keiji off his lap, helping him slide his boxers and shorts back on and not making any comments when Keiii winces at the contact, before he’s wrapping an arm around his shoulder and guiding him back to the gym. 

“If anyone says anything, have them come to me.” Kuroo’s stern energy from before making Keiji tense as he nods aggressively, “I’ll be sure to chat with them.”

Keiji swallows thickly, the hand around his shoulder tightening as he squeezes it with a chuckle. 

“You don’t have to do all of that, Tetsurou-san.”

Really, that’s the last thing Keiji wants. 

His comment is ignored as Kuroo opens the door to the gym, giving his shoulder one more squeeze before leaving to join the rest of his team. Keiji stands awkwardly for a moment, trying to muster up the courage to go back with the rest of his team, when he hears a booming voice calling out for him. 

“Akaashi!” Keiji looks over to see Bokuto nearly tripping over his own feet as he runs over to him, “Is everything okay?”

He sends a glance in Kuroo’s direction, the older boy focused on chatting with his team but not hesitating to send a small smile and wave in their direction. 

“Everything is perfect, Bokuto-san.”

* * *

“Hey, ‘kash…” Keiji looks up from his water bottle and he shifts uncomfortably to alleviate some of the pain radiating off his rear, “Uhm, are you sure you’re okay?”

Keiji lifts a brow before he nods, “I told you I was okay. I just had a little moment earlier and needed to calm down.”

Bokuto shakes his head, “No, I mean… You keep shifting around all uncomfortable and keep glancing at Kuroo.”

The cogs in Bokuto’s brain turn slowly and Keiji sits with a blush growing on his cheeks. 

“Did he hurt you!?” Bokuto practically yells, glaring over at the Nekoma captain who is currently chatting with Yaku-san, when he finally connects the dots, “Kaashi! Are you okay!? Why would he-“

Keiji lifts a hand to stop him, smiling softly, “I deserved it, Bokuto-san.”

It seems like Bokuto disagrees, judging by the way he sits next to Keiji with a quiet huff and how he reaches out to grab Keiji’s hand and squeezes it. 

“Just let me know if I needa fight him for you!” Bokuto beams and Keiji feels his heart burst with immense joy and admiration at that. 

He had been dealing with these problems alone for so long simply because he didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, yet it was so foolish of him. He had so many people that cared about him, Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san, even  _ Kozume-san  _ in his own little ways. 

Keiji had always felt so alone, like he had to deal with all his issues himself and not burden anyone else with it. But now, he doesn’t feel that way. 

He had so much support and love and he feels happier than he has in so long because of it. 

“Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i posted this on my phone so please excuse any typos or errors!)
> 
> hello friends!
> 
> this chapter took me some time and i’m still not entirely content with it but it’s something i really wanted to share as just a general wisdom for anyone dealing with this similar issue  
> despite what anyone tells you: you are never alone and you _never_ have to go through these things alone! 
> 
> hope you have a wonderful night!  
> please leave kudos & comments and thanks for all the support <3
> 
> **REQUESTS ARE CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE! ANY COMMENT LEAVING A REQUEST WILL BE IGNORED, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**


	17. osamu and suna.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If Osamu thought_ Atsumu _had crazy ideas before, Suna was quick to push that belief aside with this new one._
> 
> suna and osamu's decision leads them down a path of mistakes, kita-san is there to rectify the problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **this chapter contains underage recreational drug use (marijuana) if this bothers you please don't read**
> 
> other than that, enjoy! and please refer to the ending notes!

Osamu should have known better than to follow Suna’s ideas. He had experienced enough backlash from going along with Atsumu’s — albeit, Osamu knew that it was inevitable for him to avoid falling along, Atsumu was determined if nothing else — and he knew that this would never end well, yet here he was; sitting outside under a large, shady oak tree next to Suna while the rest of the team was inside practicing. 

Osamu didn’t typically like skipping practice, he enjoyed volleyball and got along well with his teammates so he never found the need or even the _desire_ to skip out. Maybe it was because Suna had come up to him before he could step foot into the club room to change — Atsumu having gone earlier because he was “determined to be ready before Kita-senpai” — with a small smirk and sparkle in his eye that always seemed to lead to seemingly bad thoughts. 

He didn’t want to know what the other boy had planned, Suna having far too many ideas that never went the way he wanted, and the way he shifted from foot to foot had Osamu both intrigued and nervous. 

If Osamu thought _Atsumu_ had crazy ideas before, Suna was quick to push that belief aside with this new one. 

“Do you wanna skip practice?”

Osamu froze, mouth ajar momentarily as he processed what his friend had just asked. 

Suna wanted him to skip practice? 

“Sunarin, ya smokin’ somethin’?”

Suna snorted, Osamu’s curiosity increasing tenfold, “Not right now, no.” 

Osamu wrings his hands nervously in front of him, glancing around to make sure no one is near them, “What about Kita-senpai?” 

Osamu glances over to Suna’s hand that is now resting on his shoulder (when the boy placed it there, Osamu wasn’t sure. Probably when he was gobsmacked at the notion of skipping practice) as he laughs a second time, guiding Osamu away from the club room and towards the doors. 

“He’s busy with Aran-san, right now.” Suna confirms, patting Osamu’s shoulder once more, “They won’t even notice we’re gone, trust me. Besides, you’ve never missed a practice once, live a little.” 

Osamu swallows thickly before letting Suna continue to guide him the rest of the way towards the doors and out of the building. 

He has to admit, sitting under the tree was kind of relaxing, and the realization that he wouldn’t have to be so diving drills today was an added bonus. 

Maybe Suna was right about this, there was nothing wrong with skipping from time to time. 

“Samu, isn’t this nice?” Suna sighs out, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “It feels so great outside and, guess what?”

Osamu turns to meet Suna’s gaze, a huge smirk prominent on his face, “No Atsumu to worry about.”

He hadn’t realized how quiet it was until now, actually, the lack of his twin making things far more mellow and, for once, Osamu didn’t have a twinge of irritation coursing through him. 

Of course he loved his brother, but he _did_ have to admit that it was nice to not have to deal with him right now. 

“Yer right, Sunarin.” Osamu nods, “It’s a lot quieter without that sack of shit here.” 

Suna snorts, “Much quieter.”

They sit in silence a bit longer, Suna humming quietly under his breath and Osamu watching the faint blobs that are his teammates peek out of the gym doors to begin their running drills. From where they were sitting they could see the school, despite being technically off school grounds, yet they were hidden from view from the team. All in all, it was a pretty secluded spot. The only way to find it would be if you were going on the walking trail, but Osamu highly doubted any of his teammates would consider running up the hill.

“Is there a reason ya wanted to skip?” Osamu muses after a moment longer of silence, turning to meet Suna who opens one eye with a raised brow, “What?”

“Why do you always think I have some big scheme going on, Samu? I’m not your brother.”

Osamu snorts at that, “Yeah, but ya don’t typically skip practice either so I assumed ya wanted to do somethin’.”

Suna shrugs, fishing in his hoodie pocket for a moment before pulling out a dab pen and tossing it over to Osamu.

“Huh?” Osamu pulls himself up from where he was laying down, fiddling with the pen laying in his lap, “I dunno, Suna.”

“It’s less obvious than a joint or whatever and besides, no one’s gonna come up here to find us.”

Despite the teasing remarks made by the team, Suna wasn’t actually much of a smoker, so Osamu wasn’t entirely sure where or how he got the pen. 

“I mean yeah but like, what if we do get caught?”

Suna set his gaze, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Samu, I’m not going to force you. I just, I don’t know, thought it would be fun.”

He appreciated that, honestly, and knew that Suna wouldn’t judge him if he did decide to say no, yet he was honestly kind of curious about it all and, Suna did have a good point. No one was going to come up here so the chances of them getting caught were slim, and it probably didn’t smell nearly as strong as the alternatives.

He grabs it and presses it to his lip, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see Suna smiling in encouragement, and inhales. His lungs burn, throat tickling as he lets out a loud cough and glares at Suna who’s giggling beside him.

“Hey, not terrible for your first time.” Suna praises, reaching to pat his back, “Let me show you how to do it.”

Suna, naturally, manages to take a hit without coughing up a lung, and Osamu can’t help but be impressed by it.

“Ya make it look so easy!”

Osamu reaches for the pen again when he hears a leaf crinkle, head shooting forward.

“Did ya hear that?”

Suna snorts, “You’re being paranoid, I told you no one would come up here.”

And for a moment, Osamu believes him. He chalks up hearing the noise to his paranoia and adrenaline and nods slowly, turning to shoot Suna a reassuring smile.

“What’s going on?”

Osamu feels his heart stop in his chest at that, his stomach falling to his knees at the realization of who exactly is here right now and a glance towards Suna shows that his friend isn’t even remotely fazed despite their hiding spot is very much not hidden anymore.

“We’re not feeling well so we decided to sit out. Isn’t that right, Osamu?”

Suna lies straight to Kita’s face, Osamu gawking at the way he was able to do it and not cringe at the intense stare their senpai sends. It’s obvious Kita doesn’t buy it, not by the way he’s eyeing the both of them up and down and tsking. 

“Not feelin’ well.” Kita states blankly, “So you decided to sit outside rather than tell me and go home so you could rest up?”

“Geez, Kita-san, is it that big of a deal?” Suna bristles, the pen behind his back gripped tightly between his fingers, “We just didn’t feel well, that’s all.”

Osamu nods, trying to appear as believable as possible with the way his insides are slowly shriveling up, “Y-Yeah, senpai.”

Kita hums, “Except it is a big deal. You’re sittin’ alone unsupervised when the rest of the team had no idea where ya both were. If ya had told me ya were feelin’ ill, it would’ve been fine. What if somethin’ happened? You’re lucky I decided to take this path today and run into ya—”

His senpai cuts himself off, eyes narrowing and hand clenching by his side as he turns his attention completely onto Suna.

“What is that smell?”

Suna squishes the pen tighter, trying his best to turn it off without being too obvious, “What smell?”

It all happens in a flash, Kita reaching to grab Suna’s wrist and yanking it in front of him, Suna hissing at the sharp grip and opening his palm effectively to reveal Suna’s dab pen in his hands to a disapproving Kita.

“This better not be what I think it is, Suna Rintarou.”

They meet him with silence, Kita’s eye twitching as he keeps his tight hold on Suna’s wrist, “Answer me, _now_.”

Suna groans, “You already know what it is, why do I have to tell you?”

“You’re kiddin’ me… Ya both skipped practice to sit outside and _smoke_?”

Osamu shrugs, tongue darting out to lick his lips anxiously, “Ta be honest, Suna forced me.”

“You fucker, don’t rat me out!”

Kita raises a hand and the two of them end their argument instantaneously, “Ya both skipped, ya both smoked, ya both get scolded.” He reaches for the joint in Suna’s hand and drops his wrist before turning to Osamu, “You're not a kid, ya could’ve easily told him no and gone to practice, Osamu.” He turns back to Suna after that, Osamu feeling a wave of relief course through him upon not having the attention placed on him anymore, “And _you_ , Suna, ya know better than this; draggin’ your teammates along to do somethin’ so foul.”

“Kita-san—”

Osamu’s cut off when Kita raises his hand, “No, I don’t wanna hear it right now.” He grabs both his and Suna’s wrist after that, guiding them back towards the school, “We’re gonna have a little chat about all’a this in the club room.”

Osamu nearly trips over his own feet as he follows after Kita, Suna sulking and scuffing his feet against the dirt the entire way back and not even bothering to send a glance over to Osamu.

Great, this sucked major ass.

Despite being far from the school, the walk back only takes about five minutes and Osamu feels his stomach drop to his knees when he sees the familiar gym doors. 

Practice was still going on, meaning the entire team would see Kita dragging him and Suna back inside. Meaning _Atsumu_ would see and the little asshole would clown him for it until the end of time. It was humiliating.

The sound of practice echoed out of the doors, sneakers scuffing on linoleum being something of a curse rather than a comforting sound, and Osamu is being guided through the doors before he can mentally prepare himself. 

“Kita-san?” Riseki’s voice grating Osamu’s ears, “What’s goin’ on?”

Osamu looks up to meet Aran’s disappointed expression and Atsumu’s amused one, and he just wishes the floor would swallow him whole at this point.

“Keep practicin’,” Kita waves everyone off, “Aran is in charge, don’t do anythin’ unfavorable while I’m gone or ya can meet me in the club room after practice for a discussion of your own.”

The gym goes silent, just quiet murmurs of “Yes, Kita-san” echoing throughout as Osamu and Suna continue to be tugged along by Kita in his vice grip.

Why did this have to be happening to him? Osamu should be at practice right now, teasing Atsumu for getting too excited or too loud, not being dragged off to the club room to get his ass beat into oblivion by his scary as hell captain. And Kita wasn’t typically scary! Sure he was blunt, he was never afraid to speak his mind and didn’t beat around the bush either, but he was a nice person and Osamu preferred that to this; to the sharp gaze, firm hold on his wrist, and no-nonsense Kita Shinsuke. 

“Both of ya, find a corner and stick your nose in it.” Kita snaps when they make it inside the club room and Osamu can’t help but whimper.

It wasn’t fair that he was getting into trouble, it wasn’t _fair_ that his senpai was so old school in his punishments, and it certainly wasn’t fair that he was being placed into a corner like some toddler. 

“If I have ta place ya there myself you’re gonna regret it, boys,” Kita’s voice ice-cold, “Now, _move_.”

As much as Osamu hates the corner, he _knows_ Kita will live up to his promise. He had been in this position before (albeit because of Atsumu) and if there were two things he learned from those times, it was one, that Kita was insistent on time in the corner, and two, he _would_ regret it if he didn’t go to one by himself. 

He scuttles off to the far corner after he hears Kita clear his throat, not wanting to chance his luck anymore, and presses his face against the wall with a low sigh. 

“Suna, don’t make me count ta three.” Osamu dares a glance backward, peering out of his peripherals to see Suna standing in front of Kita with his arms crossed, deadset on staying where he is, “ _One_.”

“This is bullshit.” 

Osamu winces, biting his tongue to keep from yelling out to Suna and _warning_ his friend that he’s toeing the line, as Kita gets to “two”.

He hears the warning swats before he can see it, the sound of Kita’s hand colliding sharply with the seat of Suna’s pants and a quiet whimper following.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll go, geez.” Suna storms into the corner, Osamu glancing over to see his friend practically hunched in on himself as he sulks and it reminds him far too much of Atsumu at this moment. 

“Good, ten minutes.” Kita sighs out, “Take this time ta think about how ya ended up here and what you’ll do to not end up here again.”

Osamu despised the corner with his every being. It wasn’t like he found himself with his nose against the wall often, but he had been there enough times since he'd met Kita to become accustomed to the familiar paint of the club room wall; he’s pretty certain that he has every crack and crevice memorized at this point. 

Still, he knew better than to try and argue with Kita, especially not when he had just witnessed the consequences of that from Suna. 

A glance over his shoulder shows Kita sitting on the bench and tapping on his phone, most likely setting a timer, and Suna sulking in the corner adjacent to him. He’s rubbing his bottom with one arm, the other arm crossed over his eyes with his forehead laying against it and Osamu feels a twinge of pity in his heart at the sight.

Suna didn’t get into a lot of trouble, honestly. He was typically well-behaved and kept to himself, and despite the cell phone incident a few months back, when he had spread his and Atsumu’s fight, he had never really done anything bad to warrant a punishment before. 

Yet, Kita was stern, and he had no tolerance for misbehavior or disobedience and it didn’t matter who it was who misbehaved — they would find themselves in this very same position. 

“Osamu, nose to the wall.” Kita’s voice pulled Osamu from his musing, cheeks tinting pink from being reprimanded like a child, “Ya know better than to be lookin’ around.” 

He was making it seem like Osamu spent every day in this corner, which was a huge exaggeration when Atsumu had joked about “writing his name here with all the time he spent starin’ at the wall”. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately — Osamu wasn’t sure what he would prefer at this point — the timer on Kita’s phone went off and the captain cleared his throat, Osamu slowly turning to look over at him with a sheepish glance. 

“Suna, you’re first.” Kita informed, ignoring the low whine his friend let out from his place in the corner, “Take your pants off and c’mere.” 

He sends a glance to Osamu after that, “Osamu, I need ya ta pull over that chair in front of me and park your rear in it until it’s time for ya to go.” 

Osamu stills, cheeks turning an even darker shade of red and a lump in his throat begins to form.

He was going to… _Oh no_.

“S-Senpai, I don’t know if—”

Kita cuts him off, hand raising and eyes gesturing towards the folding chair as Suna sulks over to where Kita is, pants pooled in a puddle next to the corner he had previously occupied, “Ya need to hold yourself accountable, Osamu. When ya get into trouble with your teammate, ya get punished with them. So, you’re gonna sit and watch Suna get his tannin’ and think about what ya could’ve done to prevent this. And when Suna finishes, he’ll sit in that same seat and do the same — think about what happens when ya coerce your teammates into skippin’ practice.” 

Suna huffs, clearly upset with the situation as well, and Osamu notices the way his ears are twinged a bright red at the realization of it all.

Osamu was going to have to watch Suna get his ass beat, and then Suna would do the exact same for him.

Maybe Atsumu _was_ right, maybe Kita-san _was_ a sadist.

“Senpai, I don’t feel comfortable with Osamu watching.” Suna mumbles out when he gets in front of Kita, the nervous energy radiating off of him with every fidget and glance back to Osamu, “Can’t he just, like, stay in the corner or something?”

“No.” Kita retorts without missing a beat, eyes turning back to Osamu who’s still frozen in the corner, “Osamu, chair. Suna, over my knee.” 

Osamu shakily moves from where he’s standing, sending a reassuring glance to Suna, before grabbing the folding chair that was resting against the wall and carrying it back to where Kita is. He unfolds it slowly and sits down, squirming as Suna moves to perch himself over Kita’s lap.

“Tell me, Suna, what d'ya do to get this spanking?” 

Suna exhales through his nose, “I skipped practice.” 

Kita’s hand echoes when it meets Suna’s backside, not even his boxers can do enough to muffle the sound of the smack, and Osamu jolts in his seat, eyes darting away from the scene in front of him and to his hands folded in his lap instead.

“Ya skipped to do _what_ , Suna?”

Osamu hears a low whimper, “We… We weren’t _technically_ on school property, Kita-san.”

“School property or not, ya still did something extremely illegal. Did ya know that ya could wind up in _jail_ for this, Suna RIntarou? Forget gettin’ kicked off the team or expelled, prison is far worse, little boy.” 

The notion of Suna — hell, Osamu too — being sent to jail for something like this makes Osamu’s stomach churn, eyes slowly looking back up to see Kita letting his hand fall in quick succession on Suna’s squirming backside and he swallows back a sob.

“I’m not a damn stoner or something.” Suna grits out, “I skip _one time_ to smoke and you start talking about _prison_?”

Kita’s hand falls sharper against his thigh and Suna yelps, “This ain’t about skippin’, even if that was naughty of ya, this is about doin’ somethin’ illegal and dangerous and, frankly, idiotic.” 

“So, you’re calling me an idiot, then?” Suna quips, which is quickly met with a loud cry when a flurry of swats attack the undercuve of his backside. 

“Stop bein’ smart.” Kita scolds and Osamu gulps thickly when he meets his eyes. They’re burning, full of so much intensity and frustration, but he can see the worry hidden behind it all. 

Kita was scared, so scared that he and Suna would wind up expelled or in a jail cell all because of some dumb idea. Because they wanted to seem cool and lay off some steam. 

Suna’s leg kicks up and Osamu’s hand twitches, fingers aching to reach out and hold his ankle still as Kita continues to lay down harsh smacks. His boxers are still up but Osamu is certain that Suna’s backside is bright red at this point, Kita’s hands may be tiny but they sure did pack a punch.

“I realize you’re not a stoner, Suna. Yer an athlete, ya take good care of your body and would be sacrificing your career by turning to something as foolish as that,” Kita’s voice is soft despite the loud swats that echo in the club room and Osamu’s gut clenches at the noise, “And there’s nothin’ wrong with wantin’ to have fun once in a while. But this, smokin’ and skippin’ practice, can _not_ happen again.” 

The spanking stops and Osamu pales, he isn’t mentally prepared for his turn yet. He figured Kita would take longer, that Suna would still be getting swats and—

Kita’s hand meeting Suna’s bare backside makes Osamu jolt, the sound far louder than before and Suna’s cries only increase with it. 

“N-No! Not bare, senpai, _please_.” 

The spanking picks up again and Osamu finds himself turning his attention back to his hands clasped in his lap, toes curling with each swat and face the same reddish hue as Suna’s rear end.

“There are far worse consequences than gettin’ your bare backside blistered.” Kita retorts, hand not stopping its descent, “Than bein’ turned over your captain’s knee like a naughty brat.”

Suna lets out a quiet sob, feet kicking again, “I-I’m not a b-brat!” 

“Throwin’ a tantrum when bein’ told to stand in the corner, arguing when gettin’ a spankin’, kickin’ your feet like a little kid, tellin’ me ‘no’ and tryin’ to justify your poor behavior as though it’s no big deal.” 

Each example is met with a heavy swat, Suna’s cries growing louder with each one, and Osamu silently curses himself for ever agreeing to go along with his friend’s genius idea in the first place. 

“I’m not a brat!” Suna argues again, Kita sighing out and letting his hand crash down a few more times before he stops and rests his palm against Suna’s red ass.

“Clearly, you’re not takin’ this seriously.” Kita grits, “And are choosin’ to continue your bratting.”

Kita glances over to the corner of the club room and Osamu tenses, swallowing thickly at the realization of what Kita is thinking. 

“So, you’re gonna go over to my locker and bring me that fly swatter.” Kita informs with a gentle pat to Suna’s backside, the boy whining over Kita’s lap.

“No…” He whimpers, hands moving back to rub his bottom, “No, senpai, I—”

He’s cut off when another spank falls, Osamu wincing, “ _Now_ , little boy.” 

“Okay…” Suna grumbles as he pulls himself off of Kita’s lap, hands reaching to tug his boxers up with a wince as he makes his way across the club room to retrieve the fly swatter Kita had.

At first, Aran had bought it because of the flies and gnats that would attack them. Yet, recently, Kita had found a much different use for it than killing bugs, much to the rest of the team’s chagrin. 

Suna slinks back moments later, the rubber fly swatter clenched tightly in his hands and his cheeks and ears are bright red as he hands it back to Kita with a quiet whimper. He’s pulled back over Kita’s lap after that, boxers tugged back down to rest around his thighs and Suna whines again.

“Osamu,” Kita calls and Osamu feels a chill go down his spine as he looks up to meet his captain’s eyes, “How many swats should Suna get?”

“W-What?” 

Kita taps the fly swatter against Suna’s backside, “You’re gonna be the one ta decide, Osamu. Now, how many?”

Figures Kita would still have more planned for them, as if watching his friend get his ass blistered wasn’t enough now he had to decide how many swats he would get with that damn _fly swatter_?

“Ten?”

Suna grunts, “Osamu!”

“Hush,” Kita quips and swats his hand down sharply, “You’re gonna get 15 for skippin’ and 10 extra for doin’ somethin’ illegal.” 

Osamu meets Suna’s eyes, they’re red and he can see the tears threatening to spill out. Suna had always been tough, he rarely cried and had a high pain tolerance so Osamu is pretty certain that the embarrassment of the entire situation is what’s getting him so emotional. And honestly? Osamu can’t blame him, not when he’s shifting in the chair with every swat and focusing on his hands like they’re the most interesting thing in the world so he doesn’t have to watch Suna’s ass whooping. 

“25.” Kita breaks the silence, “Ya don’t have to count, just think about how your naughtiness got ya here.”

The fly swatter is loud, the sound of it cutting the air is already tense enough but then it echoes when it connects with Suna’s ass and he has to choke back a sob. 

“Ow, senpai!” Suna croaks, leg kicking up and almost colliding with Kita’s face. It’s quickly pinned down, Kita using his free arm to hold Suna’s legs in place as he brings the fly swatter down five times in quick succession. 

“Stop kickin’,” Kita scolds as he releases Suna’s legs with a huff. Another swat falls and Suna’s leg immediately shoots back up, Kita quickly maneuvering his legs to trap Suna’s own in place before he lets the fly swatter continue to smack, “I’m disappointed in ya Suna, you’re a good kid but this was very naughty of ya. I expected more from ya.”

Kita lifts his thighs after that and Suna lets out an echoy screech, the frantic “no’s!” being ignored as his sensitive sit spots are elevated and the fly swatter falls against the lower parts of Suna’s cheeks.

“Senpai, p-please!” Suna’s voice wavers and Osamu looks up to see him beginning to cry, “I’m s-sorry!”

Kita hums as he continues to let the swatter fall, Osamu completely losing count on how many spanks Suna has gotten so far, “For what?”

“F-For skipping practice and-and dragging Osamu with me and smoking!” He sobs out, feet kicking the bench legs, “And for being a-a brat to you!”

“This can not, and _will not_ , happen again.” Kita’s voice so very icy that it makes Osamu shiver in his seat, “I’m not about to watch ya be thrown in jail, not when ya have so much goin’ for ya.”

Suna sobs brokenly after that, Osamu watching his shoulders shake up and down and his feet kick the bench in an attempt to wiggle away from the fly swatter Kita is bringing down on his upturned ass.

“I’m s-so sorry!” Suna cries, “Kita-san, please!”

The fly swatter falls a few more times and Suna is being tugged up, his sobs only growing louder as he’s pressed against Kita’s chest and his hand strokes down his back to soothe him.

“It’s okay, Suna.” Kita whispers into his ear, “You’re done. You’re forgiven, sweet boy.”

Suna nods against his chest, the white tee stained with tears, and Kita gently lifts Suna’s head away with a ruffle of his hair. 

“Can ya switch places with Osamu now, Suna?” He instructs and Osamu feels his heart skip a beat, or three, when he sees Kita gesture for him to stand up.

Suna’s cheeks are bright red as he shifts awkwardly off Kita’s lap, reaching down to tug his boxers back up with a low whine and moving to sit in the folding chair Osamu was previously in. 

He feels his hand being squeezed as he moves to place himself between Kita’s legs, Suna looking up at him with kind eyes in an attempt to reassure him.

“Go ahead and take off your pants.” Kita tells him and Osamu whimpers, despite knowing it was inevitable to get away with this over just his sweats. 

He hooks his thumb into the waistband, tugging his sweatpants down and kicking them free from around his ankles, and then Kita is guiding him over his leg. Osamu glances over to Suna, his friend sitting solemnly, eyes flickering between the scene in front of him to the wall behind them, trying to focus on anything besides Osamu being over Kita’s knee.

Osamu was grateful, honestly. He didn’t think he would be able to survive if Suna actually was watching. 

“Suna, eyes here.” Kita barked and any hope Osamu had previously been holding onto disappeared instantaneously, “Ya need to see the consequences of your actions.” 

“Senpai!” 

Osamu doesn’t get a chance to argue, not when Kita’s hand falls against his boxer clad backside moments later and he gasps. He had honestly forgotten how strong Kita’s hand was, despite how tiny they were.

“Whether it was your idea to skip or not, ya should’ve known better than to do it.” Kita begins scolding and Osamu hates how quickly he’s already affected by it, “‘specially if you’re plannin’ to do somethin’ illegal like _smoke weed_.”

Osamu whimpers when Kita’s hand moves lower and he curls his toes, burying his face against Kita’s pants leg to muffle his whines.

“I know I’m bein’ repetitive but ya boys were complete fools today for this!” Kita’s hand as sharp as his lecturing, “You’re not a child, Osamu, you were more than capable of tellin’ Suna no so tryin’ to blame him for your willingness to partake in naughty behavior? That’s unacceptable.” 

His boxers are tugged down after a few more swats and Osamu can’t help but reach back, hand moving to block the swats raining down on his _aching_ ass.

“Move your hand.” Kita scolds and Osamu shakes his head fervently.

“Kita-senpai, no more please!” He whimpers out.

Kita grabs his hand, letting his palm smack down against the back of Osamu’s own hand three times, before pinning it to the small of his back. 

“Reach back again and ya get more of those, got it?”

Osamu nods against Kita’s thigh with a whine, “Yessir.”

His hand being pinned to his back sucks, but it’s far better than having it popped like a little kid who got caught reaching into the candy jar, and he _knows_ that his senpai really would do it again if he moved to cover his rear again.

Despite the fact he isn’t lecturing anymore, Kita continues to bring his hand down sharply against Osamu’s bare ass and he can’t help but squirm with every swat that meets the tops of his thighs, toes curling. 

“S-Senpai…” Osamu whines out, hoping that this time his begging will work, “I’m sorry!”

Kita hums, “Sorry for what, little boy?”

That name, it was like a sucker punch to the gut anytime Kita called him that, yet that’s really what he feels like right now so he can’t even pose an argument. Especially not when another swat meets his sit spot after the prolonged silence, Osamu whimpering.

“F-For skippin’ practice and-and smokin’ weed and tryin’ ta blame Sunarin for all’a it!”

Osamu tenses for a moment but quickly relaxes when his senpai’s hand doesn’t fall again, instead moving to rest on his lower back as he lets out a sound of contentment. 

“Good,” his hand pats gently, “Hand me the fly swatter, Osamu.” 

Begrudgingly, Osamu obeys, hand creeping forward and handing the implement back to his senpai with pleading eyes — which are ignored vehemently when the fly swatter moves to rest on the crest of his ass.

“Suna, how many?”

Osamu had genuinely forgotten his friend was still here, face twisting to meet Suna’s own bright red one and he looks down to pick at his thumbnail, tongue flickering out between his lips in nervousness. 

“Dunno… Five, I guess?” 

Bless Sunarin, honestly. Yet… he knows that isn’t okay. Not when he was such an asshole earlier in trying to push the blame onto Suna. He couldn’t very well get away with less than him. They had equal participation, Kita was absolutely right; as much as Osamu _loathed_ to admit it.

“Sunarin,” Osamu whispered out, “ya don’t hafta go easy on me.”

“I know I just… feel bad, Samu.”

Osamu hates how much his heart clenches at that, “I shouldn’t’ve tried to blame ya.”

“I’m the one who told you to skip.”

“But I _agreed_ to it, Suna. Ya didn’t force me or anythin’.”

“Still I—”

Suna’s cut off when Kita clears his throat, Osamu immediately reminded that he’s currently draped over his senpai’s knee at the moment when the fly swatter pats against his backside again.

“While I appreciate ya both tryin’ to reconcile, I believe I asked Suna ta give me a number of swats.”

Osamu meets Suna’s eyes again, wide grey ones silently begging the solemn ember ones, and Suna lets out a sigh, “Ten, Kita-san.”

Kita readjusts Osamu over his lap after that, arm wrapping around his middle to hold him firmly in place as he taps the fly swatter once more.

“25 then.” Kita announces before bringing the swatter down in one swift arc, “Ya don’t have to count.”

The fly swatter stung something fierce, Osamu already kicking and whining after just a few swats that fell, and every glance up to meet Suna’s eyes makes the tears renew in Osamu’s own.

“I don’t wanna have this conversation again, Osamu.” Kita scolds after ten more swats, “You're too smart and too talented ta be riskin’ your career and future like this, kid..” He brings the fly swatter to rest against his ass after that, the contact making Osamu squirm, “Frankly, I’m disappointed in ya.” 

Osamu lets out a sob at that, any sense of remaining stoic flying out the window with those four words.

_I’m disappointed in you._

Sure he had done some unfavorable things, he wasn’t perfect, but he had always tried so very hard to be the best he could be, for Kita and his team as a whole. Yet, he hadn’t very well done that today. He wasn’t supposed to get into trouble, to make Kita-san worry about him, he was supposed to be the good one. He was supposed to be _good_ , yet all he feels like right now is a naughty little brat.

“S-Senpai, I’m s-sorry! I’m so-so sorry!” Osamu sobs out between hiccups, “I didn’t mean ta be bad!”

Kita brings the fly swatter down and Osamu lets out a wheezed cough, “You weren’t bad, Osamu. Sure, you were naughty, but you’re a good kid. I’m just disappointed that you would do somethin’ so foolish.”

The reassurance is nice, honestly, and even though Kita moves to start bringing the fly swatter down again, Osamu doesn’t feel nearly as frantic as he did before.

“I care about ya, botha ya, and I am not gonna stand by and watch ya ruin your futures over this” Kita states as he picks up the spanking again, “and if it takes me tannin’ your rear ends to remind you of that, then I will.”

Kita will, one hundred and ten percent, Osamu doesn’t doubt that.

“Yessir,” he whines out, foot kicking once more when the fly swatter falls the last few times. And then it’s over, Kita tugging Osamu up and situating him on his lap and his gentle hands stroking down his spine as he sobs out.

“Suna, c’mere.” Kita beckons, Osamu turning his head to see Suna wringing his hands awkwardly in front of him before moving to reciprocate the outstretched arm being offered to him.

Kita was small, way smaller than both him and Suna, yet it didn’t seem to matter. Not when he held Osamu carefully against his chest and stroked his spine and held Suna against his side with his other arm, his own arms wrapped so tightly around Kita’s waist as their senpai whispers soft reassurances all the while in an attempt to calm down Osamu’s sobbing.

“I really am s-sorry, Kita-san.” Osamu rasped out, “I—”

Kita hushes him, hand moving to rest against the nape of his neck and squeezing it firmly, “No more apologies, I forgave ya both already. Focus on calmin’ down now, okay?”

Osamu nods against his chest, burrowing his face against the shirt the best he can as he slowly lets his sobs peter into sniffles and hiccups.

Once he finally, _finally_ , stops sobbing, and once Suna finally lets go from where he’s latched onto Kita, Osamu pulls away in an attempt to redress himself.

“Senpai, I needa put my pants back on.” Osamu huffs and Kita laughs lightly, letting go and guiding Suna off of him so he can stand.

“Go ahead and get changed, both of ya, and then we need to get back to practice.”

“Aww, senpai!” Suna whines, eyes red from crying and nose twinged the same color, “Can’t we go home?”

Osamu pleads with his eyes, not wanting to go back out there and face the entire team — and loud-mouth Atsumu.

“Why would ya? We have another hour and a half of practice left.”

Mister no gaps, indeed. 

Kita pats his and Suna’s hips, gesturing towards their lockers with a silent ‘go’, and the two of them shuffle over to put on their practice clothes, both of them wincing when they slide their shorts over their aching rears.

“Senpai, did’ya hafta hit so hard?” Osamu pouts as he rubs his bottom, glancing over to see Suna doing the same with a mirrored pout painted on his own face. 

Their senpai just lets out a low chuckle, “Don’t be naughty, then ya won’t get swats.”

Osamu isn’t sure which god is on his side today, but he needs to seriously give them an offering or something for the way he’s being blessed right now. 

No one on the team said a word when he and Suna joined practice, just sending a quiet glance over before turning their attention back to the spiking and diving drills Aran was running. Not even _coach_ said anything, Kurosu just raising a brow as though to inform the boys that they were meant to participate as well. 

Suna meshes in with everyone else, sticking uncharacteristically close to Kita as he waits for him to give instructions. 

“Samu,” Osamu turns his head to Aran, “You’re up.”

He doesn’t hesitate to jump in, ignoring the pain coursing through his rear and the snickers his twin sends him when he walks up next to him.

“How’s yer ass, Samu?”

Osamu opens his mouth to open but is quickly cut off by a loud pop, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the gym. He freezes for a moment, waiting for the pain to bloom across his already sore ass, when he hears a familiar whine sound from next to him. 

“Aww, Aran!” Atsumu whines, “Why’d’ya have to swat me like that?”

Aran just sends him a look, “Stop patronizin’ your brother before I take you to the club room for your own little ‘chat’ after practice. Got it?”

Despite the chill that runs down his spine Osamu can’t help but smirk, the pain in his rear quickly dissipating at the reprimand his twin is getting, a mix between a pout and a scowl spread across his face as he bites his lip. 

At the end of the day, Osamu really doesn’t mind having teammates like these. In fact, he wouldn’t trade them for the world. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mentioned it already in this fic but weed is actually extremely illegal in japan  
> I've seen a lot of headcanons going around with "stoner suna" and while previously i found it funny, it's not entirely realistic considering the legalities of it all and the fact that he is an athlete. however, i wanted this chapter to be something between fun brattiness while keeping it as serious and realistic as i could make it. 
> 
> all this aside, i really hope you all enjoyed!  
> inarizaki is quickly becoming my favorite team (behind nekoma, ofc) and i have been crying over kita shinsuke nonstop since April so it's about time i write a fic with him aha!  
> also i literally am _obsessed_ with their accents so i was really excited to write them!!
> 
> thanks for reading, have a great day!  
> -mase
> 
> **requests are still closed until i finish my current ones! thanks for the understanding**


	18. kunimi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kunimi akira hates parties. he hates being coddled. he especially hates truth or dare.
> 
> or when a game of truth or dare goes awry, kunimi has to deal with the consequences of his actions first hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contains non-sexual/non-consensual punishment in the form of spanking and mouth soaping.  
> don't like? don't read.
> 
> CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 (just at the beginning) PROCEED WITH WARNING!

Aoba Johsai’s loss had sucked, naturally. They had all been looking forward to nationals, had such high expectations and hopes that they would make it and go far, and the blow of it all made things tense amongst the team for a good few weeks.

It took time for them all to recover, the third years more recluse and quiet than everyone was used to, and honestly it was a rough patch of time.

Their saving grace came two weeks later in the form of one Oikawa Tooru announcing they would be having a party at his house, one last get together for them as a team before the third-years graduated and a chance to bond over their shared memories the past few months, or years.

Except, Akira hated parties. Especially Seijoh ones.

Oikawa always got too excited, went overboard in getting refreshments and thinking of games to play and Kindaichi always ended up bailing out two hours in so Kunimi was stuck there until his mom was able to get off work and pick him up. 

Tonight is no different, Kindaichi announcing that he’s tired and calling his dad for a ride home and Akira grumbling in the kitchen as he pours himself another soda. 

He could always leave, ask to go over to Kindaichi’s and stay the night, but he really wants to hang out with the third-years while he can seeing as though they won’t be at practices pretty soon and it’s enough of a pro to force himself to stay. 

Akira marches out of the kitchen after that, cup clenched firmly in his hand as he makes a beeline to sit next to Matsukawa when a shrill voice makes him freeze in place. 

“Kunimi, come sit next to me!” Oikawa’s cheers and Akira grumbles under his breath, “We never get to talk outside of practices!”

Out of all the third years, Oikawa was the most… ever present. 

Sure he liked his captain, he was nice to him and didn’t scold him as much as Iwaizumi and Matsukawa-senpai, but he tended to be super, well, _clingy_. And it’s so much more prominent now in the few weeks leading up to them leaving the volleyball club. 

Akira shoots him a look but doesn’t bother moving, just scooting around him and sinking into his spot on the couch as he grips his cup tighter, “I think that’s for a reason, Oikawa-san.” 

His captain feigns mock hurt, his hand reaching up to clutch at his chest with a pout, “So mean, Kunimi-kun!”

He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink, completely toning out Oikawa’s lamentations as he scans the room for Matsukawa again who sends him a look from where he resides on the opposite side of the room, before returning to where he’s partially engaged in conversation with Hanamaki.

It’s not worth it, if he gets up Oikawa will yell after him and he really doesn’t want to butt into Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s conversation about whatever it is the two of them talk about, so he just sinks further into the couch, making an attempt for it to swallow him up as he ignores Oikawa.

He’s halfway through his drink when he can’t ignore Oikawa any longer, not when he’s announcing that they’re going to play “truth or dare” like a couple of middle school boys, and he feels two bodies slot themselves on each side of him.

“Okay, who’s first?”

Truth or dare is as childish as Akira previously assumed. The questions are so expected and typical and the dares aren’t much better — Yahaba daring Kentaro to chug a glass of ice water and Hanamaki daring Iwaizumi to trade shirts with Oikawa — and Akira is suddenly regretting not going home with Kindaichi when he got the chance.

“Alright, who’s next? Kunimi?”

Akira looks up from his cup, staring blankly at Oikawa who smiles as brightly as ever at him, “Truth or dare?”

He sighs out heavily, “Truth, I guess. I don’t really care.”

“No fun, no fun.” Oikawa hums, “Okay, who’s your favorite third-year then?”

Akira blinks, glancing at his cup and then back at Oikawa before bankly responding, “Matsukawa-senpai.”

Oikawa pouts, “Aw, Mattsun? I thought _I_ was your favorite, Kunimi!”

“Definitely not.”

Matsukawa clears his throat from beside him, eyebrow raising in warning, and Akira grumbles for the umpteenth time that night.

“But I always bring Kunimi-kun snacks! I even bought your favorite soda for tonight, why am I not your favorite?”

It’s obvious that Oikawa isn’t _actually_ upset, he just likes to poke and prod and he typically does that with all the first-years — especially Kunimi — but he really isn’t feeling it tonight, not when he’s dealt with the badgering for a good two weeks now.

“Do you want more soda? I can get you some!” Oikawa announces as he jumps up from his seat, Akira practically hissing at how determined Oikawa is to suddenly earn the “best senpai ever” title. 

“Sit down, please.” Akira bites out, glaring at him, “I don’t want any more.”

“What about a snack? I bought some salted caramels because I _know_ they’re your favorite and—”

“I said no!” He yells out, the frustration building up and causing him to finally snap, “You’re so annoying.”

“Kunimi-kun. Knock it off.” Matsukawa scolds and Akira bristles.

He typically listens when Matsukawa tells him to do something, whether it be to take a shower or actually eat his lunch, yet right now he can’t help but be annoyed at the tone of voice. 

“No, this is fucking stupid.” Akira bites out, pushing himself off the couch to move closer to Oikawa, “Stop trying to act like you’re my friend, I’m tired of it.”

“Kunimi—”

“You always try to coddle me or dote on me, treat me like I’m your… your _child_ or something! I’m tired of it!”

( _“Hey Kunimi-kun, I brought you a snack! Can’t practice on an empty stomach now.”_

_“Make sure you get enough sleep, Kunimi! We start training camps soon and we can’t have our little wing spiker tired!_

_“Kunimi-kun, did you eat lunch?”_

_“Come eat with me! I saved you some food!”_ ) 

The air in the room is colder despite the number of people in it, Oikawa’s living room suddenly feeling like an interrogation room and all of his teammate’s eyes on him make him squirm.

“Kunimi, he was just asking you a question.”

Akira scowls at Matsukawa, hating how his senpai is trying to coddle him the very same way Oikawa does. The very same way the entire team does.

“And I _told_ him I didn’t fucking want any more.”

He feels a hand on his shoulder and is yanking forward moments later, Akira whipping around and splashing his entire cup on the closest thing behind him.

Which just so happens to be Oikawa’s face.

“Right, I think that’s enough.” Akira’s head whips back and his eyes widen when his hand is grasped tightly, Matsukawa pulling him away from Oikawa and out of the chaos in the living room. 

A glance over his shoulder shows Oikawa looking up at him, his eyes full of concern and sadness, and he tries to push away to pit in his stomach when Iwaizumi is moving to guide Oikawa towards the couch. He hears someone yelling for towels and the pit turns into a cavern, his stomach feeling heavy as though someone is sucker-punching him over and over.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have kept egging him on.” Oikawa, fails to, whisper and Akira swallows back a thick and heavy sob as Matsukawa guides him into the nearest bathroom and locks the door shut behind them. 

Akira stares at his feet, even when Matsukawa clears his throat and he feels the same hand guiding him here from before now resting on his shoulder.

“Would you like to explain to me what all of that was about?”

He shakes his head, fists clenching by his side as he tries to hold back his tears from falling, “Oikawa was being a busybody, that’s what happened.”

“What? By asking you a question?” Matsukawa drawls, “We were playing a _game_ , Kunimi. It wasn’t anything more serious than you were making it out to be. Besides, you know how Oikawa gets, you shouldn’t let that get to you.”

Akira’s head snaps up at that, “It doesn’t give him the right to get into my business and try to fucking baby me, Matsukawa-senpai!”

Matsukawa laughs and Akira bristles, shoving the hand off of his shoulder, “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not.” His senpai hums and reaches for Akira’s hand after that, squeezing it tightly. “But you know what else isn’t funny? Having an attitude toward your captain, toward your entire team, and throwing a tantrum like you’re all of five-years-old. _Swearing_?”

He can’t help but groan out loudly, “I didn’t _mean_ to spill my drink on him, senpai.”

“Really now?” Matsukawa chides, “So I’m assuming your entire soda just _magically_ spilled from your cup and into your captain’s face?”

Akira grumbles, “It’s not a big deal. It’s just soda.”

“How would you feel if you spilled soda on Kindaichi instead?”

Talk about apples and oranges. Kindaichi is his _best friend_ , Oikawa is his nosey captain that had it coming for him. 

“I wouldn’t because at least he knows better than to butt into my life.”

The hand falling on his ass is unexpected but he jumps nonetheless, a yelp escaping from his lips before he can help it and he twists in vain out of the hold Matsukawa has on his wrist. Akira cranes his neck back in an attempt to glare at his senpai, all his frustration painted on his face as he tugs his wrist for a second time. 

“Watch yourself.” Matsukawa scolds and Akira finds himself hissing like a damn cat at the scolding tone.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, tonight was meant to be a fun and carefree night with his team. A chance for them to get together and hang out, to talk about everything and anything — things not related to volleyball for _once_ in their lives — yet now Akira is sulking in the bathroom, his senpai holding his wrist so tightly as though he’ll flee the second he’s released (which he would, honestly) all because Oikawa Tooru is a fucking smother. 

“Can you let go, Matsukawa?”

Frankly, Akira was only digging himself a bigger hole at this point, and it was telling. Matsukawa’s eyebrows furrowed, his lip twitching — a telltale sign he was getting increasingly annoyed and to his breaking point — and there was only one thing Akira could do: dig further.

“Excuse me?” 

Akira mirrored his gaze, letting his eyebrows furrow in a similar manner as he turned his pout into a thin line, “I asked if you could let go, _Matsukawa._ ”

He should have expected the swat to come, followed by two equally stinging ones meeting the crest of his backside. He should have expected to be tugged closer, body turned under a broad arm and oversized shirt being rucked up to allow his _mean_ senpai better access. He should have expected the hand to fall three more times with far better accuracy this time. But he still let out a surprised yelp, feet stomping against the linoleum and hands shoving against Matsukawa in an attempt to pull away.

“Fucking, _stop_!” He squeaked out, hating how panicked and desperate he sounded, “Senpai, please!”

“Oh, so _now_ you’re going to choose to be respectful?” Matsukawa huffs as he guides Akira up, grabbing his wrist again and crouching down slightly so their eyes meet better, “You have been asking for this since the second you got here, brat, and I am going to give you _exactly_ what you want.” 

Akira doesn’t get a chance to argue, not when he’s being tugged across the bathroom and is slotted in between Matsukawa’s legs only moments later. 

“Matsukawa-senpai!” Akira yelps as he’s turned over a broad thigh, his toes brushing against the floor and hands scrambling to grab onto something before he topples over. 

His saving grace is his senpai readjusting him, a big arm wrapping around his torso and helping him balance before he feels his shirt being raised again a sharp smack falls against the seat of his shorts. 

“Why are we here, Kunimi-kun?” Matsukawa scolds as his hand falls again and Akira can’t help but kick up weakly with each swat that meets his already stinging backside. 

“Because Oikawa is a smother and you’re a kiss ass.” He bristles and regrets it a second later when a harsher swat meets with the skin that peeks out from his shorts, toes curling as he squeaks. 

“Try again, _brat._ ” Matsukawa scolds with another searing swat, “We aren’t leaving until I get an actual answer.”

Akira whimpers at that, hating how quickly the swats are falling and hating the _name_ even more. He hated being called a brat, hated being in trouble, hated being in a position like this one — especially when it was Matsukua’s knee he was over and not Iwaizumi’s. 

“I-I spilled my drink on Oikawa?” He tries, letting out another squeak when two harsh swats fall against his thighs.

“That’s one reason. Accidents happen, Kunimi-kun, but that was _no_ accident. Am I correct?” 

Akira nods slowly, “Y-Yes, senpai. He just— He wouldn’t leave me _alone,_ even after I told him to stop like five times and I just… Just got mad, I guess.” 

Matsukawa responds with another swat on his thigh before his hand, _thankfully_ , moves back up to his backside, “Whether Oikawa was bothering you or not does not give you a right to spill your drink on him, am I understood? You are fifteen, Kunimi, not five. We use our words.” 

He’s guided up and for a brief moment, Akira is relieved that the spanking is over. 

“Take your shorts down and come back over.” 

He whimpers, hands wringing in front of him as his lip trembles, “Senpai…”

A hand pats his outer thigh warningly, “Kunimi.”

Begrudgingly, Akira slips his hands into his waistband and tugs his shorts down with a low mumble. He’s guided back over Matsukuawa’s thigh the second they fall to his ankles, Akira yelping when Matsukawa reaches and tugs them off the rest of the way.

“Another thing,” Matsukawa lectures as he starts up the spanking again “do we throw a tantrum or have an attitude with our team? _Especially_ towards your senpais? Towards people who _care_ about you?” 

Akira shakes his head, his ass stinging as much as his eyes that continue to well up with tears and he lets out another choked sob when Matsukawa’s hand falls again on the top of his now-exposed thigh.

“Verbal answer.”

Akira sniffles, “N-No sir…” 

Matsukawa’s hand moves to rub his spine, the warmth of the gentle touch making Akira whimper and he can’t help but crane his neck to look back at him, “You don’t have to call me ‘sir’, Kunimi-kun. Actually, uh, please don’t.” There’s an awkward laugh, Akira letting out his own watery one, “Just ‘senpai’ is fine.”

“O-Okay.” 

The hand rubs his spine once more before moving back to his rear and falling sharply, “Which is what you should be calling _all_ your seniors, yes? Even if it’s not senpai you still need to address them with honorifics, we do the same for you.” 

The sting of the words hurts more than the actual swats (which hurt a _lot_ , Matsukawa-senpai was heavy handed just in giving a high five) and Akira kicks his leg up, “I’m s-sorry!”

Matsukawa was always reserved, typically kept to himself and didn’t really have the same stern demeanor Iwaizumi did or the same (ever annoying) caring personality of Oikawa. It was weird seeing him in this position, being turned over his senpai’s knee instead of sitting with him on the comfortable couch outside like he had been trying to do before this entire mess started.

“I know,” Matsukawa responds with another two swats meeting the skin peeking from his boxers, “but you need to apologize to Oikawa, not me.”

Akira stiffens, “Senpai, I don’t—”

“ _Kunimi_.” Matsukawa’s kindness disappearing as soon as it arrived, “This is not up for debate.”

“I don’t _want_ to though! He-He had it coming, he keeps bugging me and I’m just _tired_ of it!”

The hand stops again and although he’s honestly getting tired of the start and stop, he can’t help but be a little relieved. 

“This is more than just that question, isn’t it?”

Akira sniffles, burying his face into his hands as his toes curl, “He always _badgers_ me, senpai. I can’t go a single day without him-him butting into my life or trying to dote on me or just… Ugh!”

He reaches a hand up to wipe his eye before burrowing his face in deeper, “And I know he does it because he like cares, or whatever, but I just… Why?”

Matsukawa hums, “Why what?”

Akira hates how he feels his eyes well up with more tears, hate that he’s crying _again_ over something so miniscule and stupid and—

“Why _does_ he like me?”

The humming stops and Akira tenses, the lingering silence in the bathroom even more tense than the atmosphere of Oikawa’s living room before he got dragged out, and he doesn’t even bother to lift his head and meet the obvious disappointment laced in Matsukawa’s eyes.

“Kunimi-kun,” Akira shudders, the tone definitely not as displeasurable as expected — Matsukawa sounds so defeated, the very same way he had a few weeks ago when… No, this wasn’t the time to think about _that_ match, they were meant to be getting over that — and the way his hand begins to stroke his spine again isn’t either, “what’s not to like about you?”

“You’re just saying that, senpai.” Akira mumbles into his arms, “I know that I can be too-too _bratty_ at times, it’s okay to say it.”

“Really?” Matsukawa hums, “And your dear old captain isn’t?”

“Senpai~” Akira whines out and Matsukawa chuckles, hand patting his back before moving to guide Akira up so he’s standing in between his legs, arms moving to wrap around him and bring his face into his torso. 

“Oikawa likes you — we _all_ like you — because you’re a good kid, Kunimi. You have a kind heart and you’re not afraid to be open about your feelings, even if they can be bratty at times.” Akira nuzzles his face in deeper as he whimpers, “And you’re a good friend, to Kindaichi and everyone else here. We adore you, Kunimi, why else would Oikawa want to talk to you so much? Why else would we want to be around you so much? If it’s annoying you then, then we can always stop and—”

“No!” Akira finds himself shouting before he can stop, quickly shrinking back in, “I mean, I don’t _hate_ it I just…. Maybe not as much? Give me time to breathe.”

Matsukawa hums and Akira can feel the vibration against his cheek, “Alright, kiddo, we can do that.”

Akira goes to pull away when he hears Matsukawa tuting, stopping him in his actions when he reaches for his chin, “We’re not done quite yet, Kunimi.”

“Aw, please.” He pouts, “I’ll apologize to Oikawa.”

“I’m glad,” Matsukawa hums, releasing his chin and reaching for his bicep instead as he moves to guide him to the sink against the opposite wall, “but we still need to do something about that mouth of yours.”

His blood runs cold at that, feet planting into the ground in an attempt to stop them from moving to where Akira is _sure_ is his death, “No, Matsukawa-senpai, _please_.”

He’s, of course, ignored and the sound of the tap running makes Akira tug his arm away again, the vice grip around his bicep making it fruitless, and he can only stomp his foot against the decorative bath mat in frustration as Matsukawa reaches under the sink for a bar of soap.

“Where the hell…” He trails off, mumbling under his breath, and Akira has a semblance of hope that he may not even _have_ to get his mouth washed out and—

“There it is.”

A bar of soap is retrieved, Matsukawa diligently unwrapping it and running it under the pouring tap, and Akira screeches. 

“No! Senpai, _please_!” He sniffles again, shaking his head fervorously, “Please! I won’t swear anymore, honestly! I’ll be so good and-and… I don’t want it…” 

“I know you don’t, kiddo.” Matsukawa nods, “No one does. But you were very _naughty_ earlier, swearing and saying mean things about your teammates, your friends, and I’m going to wash your mouth out for it.”

Akira whimpers again when the back of his head is grabbed, his lip quivering when the bar of soap is moved closer to him and when he hears ‘open’ he blinks back tears as he allows the soap to be pushed in, gagging already at the taste of it.

Then, he’s guided to bend over the sink and he gasps around the bar of soap when his boxers are whisked down, leaving him completely bare.

He can’t even argue, the bar of soap in his mouth both shutting him up and making him want to scream at the same time, and when he feels something that is _not_ Matsukawa’s hand against his backside he sniffles again.

“Fifteen with my slipper.” Akira nods, trying his best to relax his tense shoulders, “You’re being very good, Kunimi, thank you for cooperating.”

And then the slipper falls, Akira yelping around the soap and sniffling when he tastes even more suds. It tastes terrible and it honestly is enough of a deterrent for him to not swear anymore (at least around Matsukawa… verdict is still out on stopping for good).

“When we have an issue with our teammates, we don’t take it out on them.” Matsukawa scolds as he lets the slipper fall in quick succession, “We use our words, _polite words_ , and talk to them about it. We don’t swear or call them names or act like an entitled brat.”

Akira nods aggressively, reaching up with one hand to wipe his eyes before grabbing the sink again to keep himself from reaching back. 

“You’re allowed to swear, I know that we all do, but you can’t _curse out your captain_ , Kunimi. You can’t curse out your upperclassmen, or anyone for that matter, and if I catch you doing it again you can be sure to expect your entire spanking with this slipper next time, got it?”

He _does_ get it, head nodding up and down vigorously as he kicks his foot down on the ground, stomping and whining.

Three more heavy swats meet his thighs and Akira yelps, then he’s guided back up into that warm embrace, hands running through his hair and a quiet ‘shush’ing whispering in his ears. 

“Hey, you’re all done.” Matsukawa praises as he strokes his cheek gently, “You can go ahead and take the bar out, rinse your mouth for 30 seconds.” 

Akira turns to do so when he feels Matsukawa squeeze his arm again, “Seriously. You only have 30 seconds, no more.”

It’s not nearly enough time to get rid of the taste and Akira grimaces everytime his tongue brushes against his teeth. He slowly pulls his boxers back up before turning to face Matsukawa again, head hanging low and hands wringing in front of him as he sniffles again.

“Am I… Am I forgiven?”

He’s being hugged for the third time that night and Akira sniffles again against his shirt, smiling gently when he’s pulled away to meet warm eyes, “Of course you are, but I need you to take some time to sit on your warm bottom and think of how you’re going to apologize to Oikawa.”

Matsukawa guides him back to the toilet after that, sitting Akira down and patting his shoulder when he begins squirming at the contact.

“Ten minutes.” He states, turning back to the sink so he can wash his hands and clean up the soap, “You’re going to think of a good apology or you can stay there even longer until you have one.” 

The first few minutes spent sitting on the cold, hard, and frankly _gross,_ toilet is filled with Akira pouting at Matsukawa and sending him silent threats through his eyes for even thinking about a time out as cruel as this one. He rather stick his nose in the corner, honestly, at least he didn’t have to put pressure on his sore ass. It isn’t until he thinks a good chunk of time has passed and he doesn’t have much longer to come up with a decent enough apology that he gets over his internal hellfire and actually sets out to _think_ of one. 

“Kunimi, you have two more minutes, kiddo.” And Akira panics, quickly mumbling out an apology under his breath and hoping that it’s sufficient enough because his ass is aching and he would rather not spend any more time sitting on the toilet. Or sitting in the bathroom for that matter. 

The trill of the alarm from Matsukawa’s phone goes off and Akira practically jumps, head whipping to face him and eyes pleading to stand when a hand placates him.

“Let me hear it, then you can get up.”

Akira squirms again, “Uhm, ‘Oikawa-san, I am sorry for throwing my drink at you and cursing at you. I shouldn’t have been so… _bratty_ when you were just trying to talk to me and I will not do it again.’”

He glances up and sees Matsukawa nod, “That’ll do.” Akira jumps up at that, reaching back to rub his backside before he can think twice as an arm slings over his shoulder, “So, you think you’re a brat?”

“H-Hey!”

* * *

The party is still in full swing when Akira and Matsukawa exit the bathroom and he’s honestly thankful for the fact that everyone chose to act like nothing had happened — that no one made a big fuss about him being dragged away. 

He clings onto Matsukawa despite this, head tucked against his arm as he’s guided to where Oikawa sits on a couch. Iwaizumi sits beside him, Hanamaki on the other side with his legs propped up on him, and all three of them glance up with soft smiles when Matsukawa pushes Akira closer to them.

“Mattsun? Where did you disappear to?” Iwaizumi raises his eyebrow and quickly drops it when he sees Akira’s flushed face, lip twitching up into a small smile, “Ah, I see.”

“Just had to have a little talk with my dear kohai,” Matsukawa states with a low chuckle, patting Akira’s bottom again for good measure, “who has something he would like to say to Oikawa.”

Oikawa sits up after that, eyes wide and focusing on Akira and he gulps thickly before bowing 90 degrees, eyes trained on the floor beneath him.

“I… I’m really sorry, Oikawa-senpai.” Akira whispers, “It was so wrong of me to throw my drink at you and to swear and call you names and I just… You don’t deserve that, not when you’re so _nice_ to me always, and I know I can be too much because I’m a little brat but I don’t _mean_ it, Oikawa-san, I really don’t. I just—” He trails off, eyes glancing upward when he feels a hand on his shoulder before he’s being pulled into a warm and loving embrace, the rest of the apology long forgotten as he cries into Oikawa’s shirt.

“Kunimi-kun,” Oikawa soothed, “it’s okay.”

Akira nods into his chest, “Okay… I really am sorry, though.” 

“I know you are. And I bet mean old Mattsun made sure of it, huh? He’s such a brute when it comes to spanking!” Akira giggles, hearing Matsukawa grumble something under his breath from beside them, “Besides, it’s just a little bit of soda on my t-shirt. Nothing a few good washes can’t deal with.”

“Is… Is your face okay?”

Oikawa hums, hand patting his hair, “Yes, you didn’t damage my beautiful face. You should be glad too, it’s hard having an ugly captain.”

“We already have one.” Is mumbled out and Oikawa scoffs, pulling Akira’s face from his chest so he can ‘tsk’ at him.

“So mean! You really are bratty, Kunimi-kun.” But there’s no menace in his words, especially not when he feels his chin resting gently on top of his head and his arms wrap back around him, “It’s okay though, I like how feisty my Kunimi-kun is.” 

Akira smiles, “And I like you, Oikawa-san. Really, you’re a great senpai and captain and I really am sorry for yelling at you… I don’t mind the, the doting sometimes.”

“Thank you, Kunimi.” He hums, nuzzling his face in Akira’s hair, “And, I forgive you.”

Their embrace lingers for a few moments longer before Akira pries himself away, ignoring the whine Oikawa lets out in favor of moving back to where Matsukawa leans against the couch, talking to Hanamaki. He looks up when Akira walks behind him, arms already reaching up and allowing Akira to fall into them as he hugs him tightly.

“Thank you, Matsukawa-senpai.”

“Of course, kiddo, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only took two months for me to update this again, haha... sorry...
> 
> this one took me some time because i haven't really ventured out into this territory yet: having to deal with spanking someone in a non-volleyball setting and the mouth soaping and the longer punishment but it's something that i really wanted to do so i could shake it up a bit.  
> i hope you all enjoyed! kunimi is one of my faves from seijoh (behind tooru ofc) and i had a really fun time writing this especially because i adore his relationship with matsukawa
> 
> thanks for reading. leave kudos and comments? <3
> 
> \- bee
> 
> **requests are still on hold until further notice!**


	19. shirabu.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kenjiro liked to think he had his life in order._   
>  _Until spring interhigh finals reared its ugly head with exam season following right behind it._
> 
> or when shirabu chooses to neglect his studies in favor of getting extra practice, things can't turn out too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _this chapter contains non-sexual spanking including the use of a bathbrush_

Kenjiro liked to think he had his life in order. He made good grades, spent a majority of his free time studying or preparing for university — between study groups and pre-med classes — and was hyper-focused during volleyball practice, not letting the overflowing amounts of schoolwork or unfinished assignments haunt him during the three hours he chose to dedicate to his passion. 

But his system worked: he was never overworked or overwhelmed, he even found the time to help tutor his teammates that were struggling and spent extra time taking practice exams or even staying an hour later in the gymnasium to work on any sloppy set he had performed at practice earlier, the little things to ensure that he was always prepared. And these things just seemed to mesh together perfectly into his own organized little world.

Until spring interhigh finals reared its ugly head with exam season following right behind it, two of the most major and important things in Kenjiro’s life suddenly becoming far more serious. 

Shiratorizawa was projected to go to nationals and they had high expectations and hopes — and lots of extra practice so they weren’t all talk — going into the upcoming weeks to their match. But it only meant that there was far more pressure than before and, on top of that, exam season was one of the most crucial parts of Kenjiro’s world. 

He had gotten into Shiratorizawa _because_ his test score was so high, he didn’t get in from a sports scholarship like the entirety of his team. He relied heavily on his grades, his brains, and if that meant he would spend 90% of his time holed up in his dorm room studying, then so be it. 

Except he doesn’t get that option, not when Kawanishi is banging on his door at the crack of dawn to announce that they’re having an extra morning practice.

“What do you mean?” Kenjiro yawns, only slightly embarrassed that his bangs must look horrendous and his pajamas are not the most flattering — no one saw them anyway and there was nothing wrong with Anpanman! Besides he wore them to sleep in, not to go out — as he eyes Kawanishi up and down, his teammate already dressed for practice and raising his eyebrow, “It’s Tuesday. We don’t practice Tuesday mornings.” 

“Yeah, well, Coach Washijo wants us to get an extra morning in and he chose Tuesdays.” Kawanishi grumbles out, obviously not thrilled to have such an early wake-up call on one of the only days they get to sleep in, “We start in 10, get dressed.” 

He turns to leave before freezing in the door frame, sending a glance over his shoulder with a smirk, “Nice jammies.” 

Kenjiro slams the door in his face. 

Nine minutes and thirty-seconds later, Kenjiro makes his way inside the gymnasium. 

Practice hasn’t even started and yet he already feels the entire team eyeing him, Tendou smirking as though Kenjiro has clown makeup painted on his face when he waltzes in and towards the center of the court where everyone is stretching, and he bristles.

He already knows that it’s going to be rough, especially when he sees Coach Washijo pulling out their bibs and is assigning them onto scrimmage teams. 

Great, just great. 

“Shirabu.” Kenjiro turns his head only to have a bib thrust in front of his face, “Wake up, you have practice. You can daydream on your own time.”

Kenjiro already hates Tuesday morning practices. 

He quickly gets his bib shoved on before he's moving to help set up the net, ignoring the internal game of table tennis going on in his brain: bouncing between his desire to have a semi-decent practice spent ignoring his biology exam or let the thought of everything going on consume him.

Figures that the latter would win out, it always did.

Kenjiro doesn’t need to be told that he’s falling behind, it’s obvious in his performance as a whole at practice today and every time someone sends him a glance he can’t help but shirk further into his self-crippling demise. He failed so many sets, enough for Washijo to bench him and let Semi take over, and it’s a major wake-up call for him.

Everyone was miles ahead of him; sure he was a starter, he was the _main_ setter for their team, but the athleticism between him and Ushijima or Tendou or Goshiki was just miles apart. He was the weakest link, and it only makes the blow of his terrible practice hurt worse.

It’s no wonder he didn’t get a sports scholarship like everyone else. 

The second they’re dismissed, Kenjiro doesn’t waste any time in going to Semi and it’s clear the third-year is just as surprised as Kenjiro is in the way he quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Shirabu?” Semi hums, “Did you need something?”

Kenjiro exhales, “I sucked today.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Semi blinking owlishly at him before his eyebrow shoots back up to his hairline, “Wha-”

“I know I was off my game. I kept messing up sets and hitting out of bounds and I just… Well, I sucked.”

Semi nods, “Okay, and what do you want from me then?”

“Could I practice with you?”

It took a lot for Kenjiro to admit it, to confess that he recognizes how much he was failing during practice, and to actively get help from one of his teammates. Sure he liked them, he worked well with them, but he preferred to work on his own — both in classes and volleyball.

“You want extra practice?” Semi cocks his head and watches Kenjiro as he slowly nods, “Alright, done.”

“R-Really?”

Semi smiles, “Sure. I could use some extra practice myself anyway. Besides,” he reaches forward to mess up Kenjiro’s bangs after that, “I have to make sure you don’t overdo it.”

“Thanks…” Kenjiro mumbles, pushing Semi’s hand away with a scowl, “I, uh, appreciate it.”

“It’s no big deal.” He assures as he snickers at the obvious annoyance painted across Kenjiro’s face, “Can you meet tomorrow afternoon?”

Kenjiro had planned to study for his biology exam then, his planner color-coded and blocked off for two hours to spend solely on that one exam, “That works for me.”

It’s just one afternoon, it would be fine, he has the rest of the week to prepare for it. Right now, he needs to focus on practicing and getting better if he has any chance of going to nationals. 

* * *

“Oh, Shirabu. You’re early.” Kenjiro freezes in his tracks, not expecting Semi to be there just yet, as the third year already setting up the net that was left out from morning’s practice. “Come help me finish.”

He sets his bag down next to Semi’s own and helps unfold the remainder of the net, “Have you been here long? Sorry, I got tied up doing practice problems and—”

Semi laughs, “It’s fine, I just finished my exams early and figured I would get a head start.” He hums before turning to face Kenjiro, “Do you have any this week?”

“Oh, uh, my biology one got moved to next week.” Kenjiro lies through his teeth, not wanting Semi to cut their practice short so he can prepare for it, “So we have all week to work.”

Semi nods, “Sounds good! I don’t want you abandoning any studying for the sake of extra practice.”

Oh irony, it’s a cruel joke that seems to run Kenjiro’s life. 

Fortunately, Semi doesn’t bring up studying or exams after that and Kenjiro lets go of a breath of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto this whole time, “Alright, let’s get this started. If you do good today I’ll treat you to dinner afterward, how does that sound?”

Dinner sounds good. _Free_ dinner sounds really good.

“Thanks, Semi.” Kenjiro finds himself smiling, “I would really like that.”

Semi laughs as he ruffles his bangs again and this time, Kenjiro really can’t find himself getting annoyed with it like before, “Then let’s do a good job.”

Before this year, Kenjiro and Semi had never been close. In Kenjiro’s first year they seemed to butt heads more than they got along and it led to Kenjiro choosing to avoid the older boy at any chance he got. It was never a big deal or issue, they just had such contrasting personalities that it caused them to clash and they realized that it would be better, for the sake of the team, to not be grouped together for drills (there was one time where they had yelled so much that Wasjiho ended sending both of them home early and Kenjiro _never_ wanted to repeat that). 

But now, they were closer. Maybe it was because when Shirabu took on the role of starting setter he realized Semi’s tendency to show off wasn’t as annoying as he previously thought, and then later when he heard Semi tell him that he tended to be disrespectful when he got pissed off enough it led to him to want to mend the broken relationship he had with the older setter. It seemed to work too, because before when they weren’t allowed in the same room for fear of a full-fledged argument breaking out, they seemed to be spending even more time together than they ever had.

Exhibit A being the two of them running setting drills alone together, two hours later than practice typically ended, and Kenjiro _actually_ enjoying it. 

The threat of not preparing for his exam is suddenly aforethought, all his thoughts occupied with improving from that terrible practice the day before.

Besides, it was like he said before: he had three days to study. He would be fine. 

The days passed by quicker than Kenjiro could prepare for and suddenly the extra practice sessions were seemingly catching up to him. Before, Kejiro could push aside the creeping worry about his upcoming exam not being until Friday, to focus all his attention on extra sets and drills with Semi and not the assignments piling up on his desk. 

Now though, Kenjiro wakes up in a fit of panic, because Friday is finally here and he isn’t entirely convinced that he’s ready for this exam of his.

The typical walk to his biology classroom is filled with far less confidence and determination than usual, all his insecurities and stress about his exam making him look as disheveled as he feels, and it doesn’t take long for his classmates to catch onto the fact that Kenjiro is _definitely_ not prepared.

“Well, if the smartest kid isn’t ready then I guess we’re all doomed.” Is snickered out and Kenjiro can’t even deny it for once, not when all his extra free time has been dedicated to extra hours spent practicing and _not_ spent on this.

Kenjiro is screwed, to put it gently, and there’s the sudden realization that makes his entire internal downfall plummet further in that if he fails this test he may not even be able to _play_ at nationals. 

Only one thing for him to do at this point: hope that he somehow miraculously passes.

* * *

“Hey, Shirabu!” Kenjiro turns from where he’s stretching before the start of practice, eyebrow raising up at Kawanishi, “How did your biology exam go?”

Kenjiro freezes in his tracks, mouth remaining agape and eyes widening in sheer panic and he slaps his hand over the other boy’s mouth as he hisses, “Don’t mention _anything,_ okay?”

Kawanishi snickers from under his palm and he pushes it aside, “What? Did you bomb it or something? Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one, Shirabu?”

Kenjiro practically hisses at him, “No, I didn’t _fail_ , I just… Okay, look, don’t tell Semi but I skipped out on studying to get some extra practice in with him.”

Kawanishi stares at him, eyebrows raised in a way that shows he’s not impressed at _all_ , before he smirks, “So you’re a liar now?”

“Kawanishi!” Kenjiro grits out, “Look, nationals are coming up and I _know_ I was slacking at practice a while ago so I decided to get some extra practice in, it’s not a big deal.”

“Hmm. Then why can’t we talk about your bio exam?”

Kenjiro deflates, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he scans the gym for Semi and Ushijima — the two older boys seemingly focused on whatever it is they do before practices — before sighing, “I told him my exam was next week.”

“You lied _twice_!?”

Kenjiro really needs to get new friends, preferably ones that don’t air out his dirty laundry for the entirety of their team to hear.

“Would you be quiet about it, already? I don’t need Ushijima finding out.” 

Kawanishi snorts, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. But honestly, it’s your funeral when he _does_ find out you’ve been lying this whole week.”

It’s true, Kenjiro _hates_ that it’s true, but he’s just glad that it would be Ushijima and _not_ Semi. 

He can’t even pretend he’s not affected by the truth in Kawanishi’s words, not when he’s entirely on edge during a majority of practice and anytime he glances over to see how concerned Semi is or how curious Ushijima is, the spiraling just seems to increase. 

He’s going to get caught, they’re going to find out he not only lied about his exam being moved but also about skipping out on studying, about how he _barely_ managed to pass his exam, and the fact that his grade is going to drop so low because of it. 

And every time he meets Semi’s gaze the guilt just amplifies, the words “you lied” echoing in his head and making him want to bash his head against a wall and he’s so close to just screaming out a confession in the middle of their diving drills to end the internal turmoil he’s having. 

“Shirabu?” Kenjiro snaps his neck around and practically caves, Ushijima’s eyebrows furrowing as Semi stands behind him looking as concerned as he did before, “Is… Is everything alright? You seem troubled.”

“I… I—” He swallows thickly, “I lied.”

Despite being in the middle of practice, the gymnasium feels entirely too quiet. Kenjiro can hear himself breathing, the race of his heart, and his pulse thrumming in his ears, and when Ushijima moves closer and places a hand on his shoulder, he exhales shakily.

“Shirabu. What did you lie about?”

_“But honestly, it’s your funeral when he_ does _find out you’ve been lying this whole week.”_

Damn Kawanishi, damn his friend. 

“My biology exam was today.” Kenjiro starts, licking his lips to give himself some sense of reprieve under the intense glare from two of his upperclassmen, “The one that I… The one that I told Semi wasn’t until next week.” 

Ushijima hums, “And _why_ did you lie about it?”

Semi’s eyes are already widening from out of the corner of Kenjiro’s eyes and he has to hold back the apologies threatening to spill, “So that I could get extra practice… Before nationals… Because if I told him that I did have my exam this week then—”

“Then I would have told you ‘no’ to the extra practice?” Semi questions, “Maybe. Or _maybe_ I would have planned a schedule that worked with you around your test prep, Shirabu. All you had to do was _tell me_ , not lie to my face for a week straight so you could get a few extra hours in.”

“Semi, I’m—”

Ushijima raises his hand and Kenjiro bites his tongue, Kenjiro cringing at how much he’s intimidated by it, “Shirabu, that is unacceptable. What if you had _failed_? You know you are not allowed to play if you fail a class.”

“But I _didn’t_ fail, did I!?”

“ _Shirabu_. I suggest you mind your tone, you’re already in trouble.”

Kenjiro stiffens at the proclamation even though he had been expecting it, hands fidgeting at his sides as Semi and Ushijima stare him down. 

“Ushijima.” Semi calls out after a beat of silence, “Let me deal with him.”

Yeah, he would _definitely_ rather have Ushijima than Semi. 

“W-What?”

Semi’s eyes narrow, hand moving to grab Kenjiro’s wrist and tug him even closer, “You lied to me. You lied to me for _three days_ and acted like your education, your _future_ , was no big deal; that playing volleyball was more important.”

“Because it _is_ , right now at least!” Kenjiro tries to tug his wrist away at that but fails, Semi only gripping it tighter as he turns on his heels and begins to guide the both of them out of the gymnasium. 

Semi sends a wave over his shoulder to Ushijima before focusing his attention back onto Kenjiro, eyes still ablaze and grip on his wrist still tight as ever, “Shirabu, you are in a _world_ of trouble, kid.”

Kenjiro had been in trouble before, many times. Whether it be because his backtalk got to be too disrespectful or his insults got to be too cruel, he always seemed to find himself being scolded every so often. He had expected to get in trouble this time too, to have Ushijima deal with it, even _Reon_ , yet Semi? He had never punished any of them, never really cared to, and Shirabu had always figured that it would be his saving grace. 

Except no, not this time. Not when Semi took the reins from Ushijima, the usually lax third-year suddenly far more intimidating for Kenjiro’s liking, and the pit in his stomach from before suddenly feels more like his guts are being twisted and pulled. 

The locker room door shuts behind them and Semi slowly releases his hold on Kenjiro’s wrist, the older setter sighing out heavily before pressing his fingertips to his temple, “Go shower. I need time to calm down. I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”

Kenjiro doesn’t pose an argument, simply bounding to his locker to grab his bag and shower stuff before he’s turning the water on, sighing out against the tiled wall. He typically didn’t take long showers, not when he was sharing the showers with ten other boys, but he’s willing to use up all the available time he has until Semi calls for him. 

“Shirabu.” Kenjiro hears Semi’s voice ring out from the lockers, “You have five minutes to get dressed and over here.”

Kenjiro bites back a whine as he quickly towels off, throwing his shorts and t-shirt on before shuffling his feet back over to where Semi is waiting for him, legs crossed as his hands fiddle on his phone more a moment before he glances up.

“Come on now.” Semi beckons him over and Kenjiro feels his stomach drop when his legs are uncrossing, “Let’s talk.”

“Are… Are you not going to—”

“Oh no, I definitely am.” Semi scoffs and Kenjiro’s stomach flips, “But I want to talk to you first, see why exactly you chose to do all of this.”

Kenjiro sits in the vacant spot next to Semi, focusing on his hands instead of the pressed lips and raised brows Semi has, “I wanted extra practice.”

“Hmm, and why is that?”

He stiffens, hating how casual Semi sounds about all of this, “You _know_ why. It’s because I sucked at Tuesday’s practice, I _told_ you that.”

“One bad practice doesn’t negate a week’s worth of additional practice, not unless there’s some other reason that you’re neglecting to tell me.”

Kenjiro can’t bear to admit the truth to Semi, not when he had been lucky enough to get _his_ spot in the first place, and the thought of even admitting it feels foreign to him. Yet, he needs to get it off his chest, to finally talk about it and not hold onto the feeling anymore. 

“I got in on good grades.” Kenjiro begins, picking at his thumbnail from the hand that’s rested in his lap, “I got in because I passed the entrance exam. Everyone else, though…”

“We got in on a sports scholarship.” Semi finishes for him with a hum, “That’s true. But, Shirabu?”

Kenjiro’s chin is being gripped and his head is lifted, warm and somber eyes melting away the pain ebbing in his chest, “That doesn’t make you any lesser of a player. Think about it: who’s our starting setter?”

Kenjiro clenches his jaw under Semi’s gentle hold, “Me…”

“Exactly! Shirabu, you’re a _good_ player. You have amazing game sense and work well with everyone, there’s a _reason_ why you’re our setter.”

“Aren’t you… Aren’t you _mad_ that I’m complaining though? I mean, I took your position and—”

Semi’s hand tightens on his jaw, his eyes widening and more passionate than before, “Shirabu, why would I be mad? You deserve that position.” 

Kenjiro shrugs, “I… I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Semi hums, eyes narrowing slightly, “That’s not what you’re in trouble for, anyway.”

He shrinks in at that, teeth moving to bite against the inside of his cheek, “I didn’t _mean_ to lie, Semi! I’m-I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, don’t give me that crap. If you didn’t ‘mean to’ you never would have done it in the first place, mister. You’re just sorry that your ass got caught.”

Why do the people in his life just have to be so _right_ about everything? It’s honestly getting annoying at this point, especially since Kenjiro knows there’s no way he can talk his way out of this. 

“I passed, though.” Kenjiro manages to get out after a lingering silence, “Isn’t that enough?”

Semi sighs and releases his hold on Kenjiro’s chin at that, “Shirabu. You’re a straight-A student. Look me in the eye and _tell_ me that ‘just passing’ is ‘fine’. What happens when your grade drops, hmm?”

Kenjiro groans, “Okay! Okay, fine! I should have studied, you’re right.”

“You should have done a _lot_ of things that you didn’t, but it’s fine.” Kenjiro squeaks when he’s guided to stand, Semi moving him in between his legs as he tugs his shorts down before he’s bent over a thigh, “We have time to talk about it.”

Semi’s hand falls sharply against Kenjiro’s boxers and he lets out a yelp, toes already curling under the sting, “O-Ow!”

“Your first mistake was _lying_ to me about your exam.” Semi starts lecturing and meets his point with searing swats directed on the top of Kenjiro’s thighs, “If you would have told me the truth then we could have _easily_ made a better schedule for this, one in which you get to _study for your exam_ and practice.” 

Kenjiro nods, hissing out when the hand grows sharper, “Instead, you chose to lie about it. You put off studying for the sake of getting a few extra hours in and _risking_ your future. Never mind that you ‘barely passed’, what if you had _failed_ , Shirabu?”

“I- I, ow! I don’t know! I just, just thought you wouldn’t h-help if you knew I had a test!”

Semi meets that with two more stinging swats on his thighs before moving his hand back to his backside, “And you didn’t think to _ask_ before _lying to me_?”

“I didn’t-”

“If you say you ‘didn’t mean to’ one more time I’ll wash your mouth out, mister.” Semi scolds, “I’m done with your lying.”

Kenjiro whimpers at that, nodding aggressively into Semi’s leg, “O-Okay! Sorry, sorry!”

“What are you in trouble for, Shirabu Kenjiro?”

The use of his full name makes Kenjiro shudder, a cool breeze running down his spine as he bites his lip, “F-For lying to you. About my e-exam being next week and n-not needing to study for it.” 

“What else?” Semi questions and Kenjiro whines loudly, “ _Shirabu_.”

“I-I don’t _know_!"

Semi sighs, hand falling twice more before stopping and resting on the waistband of his boxers, “I think you do. Think long and hard about it, mister.”

Kenjiro sniffles when his boxers get tugged down to where his shorts rest around his knees, head shaking against Semi’s leg, “N-No, please…” 

“What did you say earlier?”

Semi lets his hand fall against bare skin at that and Kenjiro whines, the pain is so much worse on his wet skin and he suddenly realizes why Semi had him take a shower beforehand, “I-I said that I didn’t fail! That it wasn’t a-a big deal because I b-barely passed!” 

“That’s right.” Semi concedes, “Your grades are important, Shirabu, you of _all_ people know that. So then what would lead you to even _think_ that what you did was even remotely okay?”

Kenjiro sobs out at that, Semi’s hard falling faster and sharper and leading to Kenjiro kicking up his leg before it’s being wrapped in place by Semi’s own legs, effectively pinning his own in place, “I-I don’t _know_! I just wanted t-to be better!”

“I know you did,” Semi hums, ignoring Kenjiro’s deafening sobs, “but like I said, there were far better ways to go about it. Far _smarter_ ways, Shirabu. You are too intelligent to be doing such idiotic things like this.”

Kenjiro nods again, hands clenching tightly on Semi’s ankle as the pain in his ass grows more prominent, “I’m s-so sorry!”

“I bet you are, but something like this can not and _will_ not happen again.” Semi hums, “Which is why you are going to come to my room for the next three nights for a reminder of this conversation. Three days spent lying and neglecting your studies, three nights over my knee.”

If Kenjiro weren’t sobbing already, he would have bawled at the statement. All he can do now is blubber over Semi’s knee, head bobbing up and down as he nods in agreement and lets out another sob when Semi’s hand meets his sit spots before traveling back up to his bottom.

“O-Okay!”

He’s guided up with another swat, “Good boy. Now, I want you to go into my locker and fetch my bath brush.”

Kenjiro freezes at that, head shaking rapidly as a new wave of tears spill out, “N-No, _please_ , Semi.”

He’s met with a swat on his backside guiding him in the direction of Semi’s locker, “ _Go_ , Shirabu. No more arguing.”

Kenjiro complies, albeit reluctantly, and quickly tugs his shorts and boxers back up as he stomps his way over to Semi’s locker. The bath brush looks way too intimidating for what it is, but maybe it’s because Kenjiro knows it’s going to be used on his already sore ass and _not_ to wash himself up, and he tenses as he grabs it with a shaky hand before moving back to Semi. 

Semi nods and grabs the brush from him before he’s propping his leg up on the bench, Kenjiro being tilted over it and nearly lifted from the ground when a strong arm wraps around his torso, fingers pulling down his protection. 

“W-Wait—”

His plea dies on his lips when the bath brush falls, Kenjiro squawking loudly before he bursts into tears yet again, “I-I’m _sorry_!”

“I know, Shirabu.” Semi hums and brings the brush down again, the sting so prominent on his bare and, still damp, ass and it makes him yelp every time it falls.

It falls twice more, alternating on the sensitive undercurve of his ass, and Kenjiro’s toes skirt on on the floor, straining to stomp against it, as he lets out another sob. 

“Ten more,” Semi soothes, hand rubbing against his aching rear before tapping the bath brush against it again, “Count them for me.”

Kenjiro nods, wincing and meekly yelping out a ‘one’ when it falls again, ‘two’ and ‘three’ following shortly after, and he sobs out as the brush travels lower; the tops of his thighs receiving ‘four, ‘five, ‘six‘, and ‘seven’ before moving back up.

“Three more, you’re doing so well.” 

The last three fall and Kenjiro practically screeches them out, toes drumming against the tile the best they can from where he’s perched, and he deflates over Semi’s thigh with a shaky exhale. He doesn’t completely register the bath brush is on the ground nor does he realize he’s been pulled into an embrace, gentle arms combing through his still damp hair, until he hears Semi’s gentle voice humming in his ear. 

“I-I’m so—”

He’s cut off, Semi shushing him as he reaches to dab Kenjiro’s wet eyes with the corner of his shirt, “No more apologies, kid, you’re already forgiven.”

Kenjiro nods sullenly, sniffling again as he sinks further into the embrace, “‘kay…” 

“No more lying, Shirabu, got it?” Semi’s voice returning to the stern tone from before and making Kenjiro gulp thickly.

“Got it…” He nods and sighs out when Semi goes back to messing with his bangs, “But…”

Semi smiles, “Yes, you’re still getting three night’s worth of bedtime spankings. Starting tomorrow, right before you go to bed.”

Kenjiro groans, “That’s not fair!”

“No? Neither is _lying_ to someone who took the time to help you, mister.” Semi pats his sore rear and Kenjiro yelps, “We can always start tonight if you so please.”

“No…” He grumbles out, hating how Semi laughs before gently pressing his lips to his forehead.

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls away after that, “Come on, go and redress so we can go take a nap in my dorm.”

Kenjiro tugs his shorts back up with a wince and rubs his bottom before glancing towards the doors that lead to the gym, “I… I don’t have to go back to practice?”

“You’ve practiced enough this week, trust me.” Semi jabs, “For now, let’s just rest. You have a long three days ahead of you, kid.”

He’s guided out of the locker room after that, the faint sound of sneakers scuffing on the linoleum a passing thought as Semi hums gently under his breath.

“Semi?” He whispers when they get to his door, the older boy fiddling with the key before turning to raise an eyebrow at Shirabu.

“Hmm?”

He doesn’t give him a chance to react before he’s pressing against him tightly, face burying into his chest with a small smile, “I really am sorry.”

“I know, Shirabu, you don’t need to apologize anymore. You’re starting to sound like Tsutomu.” 

Kenjiro whines against his chest, “I just… feel like I can’t say it enough.”

“You can make it up to me by being honest about your feelings from now on, okay? Tell me when things are bothering you and if you need extra practice. No more lying, to me or anyone else.” 

He nods into Semi’s chest, “Promise, no more lying. I don’t think I can handle more than one week of… _bedtime spankings_.” He whispers out and feels Semi’s chest vibrate with laughter.

“You’ll be fine, kid.” He teases before guiding Kenjiro’s face away and moving to unlock his door, “Come on, let’s go take that nap.”

Kenjiro doesn’t even bother to argue, simply following behind with no more worries on his mind. Only the thought of curling up into bed with his favorite upperclassman for a nice and well-deserved nap to lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, i'm not sure how i managed to bust this one out in a week but here we are!
> 
> semi and shirabu are honestly my FAVES at shiratorizawa (sorry tendou) and i have been wanting to write something with the two fo them for ages since i did my goshiki and tendou chapters!  
> i absolutely love the two of them and their dynamics and i really enjoyed writing this one so i hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much!  
> also, this is dedicated to the lovely BionicOtaku who actually requested a chapter with shirabu and semi ages ago. i hope you enjoyed it, love!
> 
> i was going to write the actual bedtime spanking but i didn't want it to become too lengthy and liked where it ended so i decided to just not include it, sorry if i got your hopes up ;-; maybe another time?
> 
> please leave comments and kudos <3 
> 
> **also, i am taking requests again! i will not write every single one, however, but feel free to leave whatever your heart fancies**
> 
> until next time,  
> bee <3


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